


Missing

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-02 08:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16783474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Tony goes missing after a skiing trip - what's the fallout?The story won't follow canon and/or timeline completely.





	1. Chapter 1

“Morning, Gibbs.”

“Chief,” said Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, looking up from his desk in the squad room at NCIS.

“It’s time,” sighed Anthony DiNozzo Sr.

“So you say,” said Gibbs neutrally as he took a sip of his coffee.

Special Agent Tim McGee, who was watching his Boss, suddenly wondered if drinking coffee actually gave Gibbs an excuse not to speak; that it gave him a breathing space and that was why he was lost without a cup at hand. Well, that and the whole caffeine addiction thing, of course.

“I don’t want to do it,” said Senior with another sigh and a mournful look, “But we have to be practical.”

“Sure,” came another Gibbs’ non-committal answer.

“The adverts have been out for two months. My attorney says that the court will probably reckon that’s long enough.”

“Huh.”

“Gibbs …”

“Not sure why you’re telling me all this,” interrupted Gibbs. “It’s your idea. It’s what _you_ want to do.”

“Gibbs,” said Senior pleadingly, “I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to _have_ to do it.”

“Then don’t,” said Gibbs simply.

“I … we … have to face the facts … Junior’s not coming back.”

“He didn’t like being called _Junior_ ,” chipped in Tim.

“What?” asked Senior.

“Tony, he didn’t like being called Junior. He tried to tell you.”

“I think I know my son better than you, Tim.”

“You think?” said Gibbs.

“He’s my son, of course I know him better.”

“Seem to remember we had this conversation before,” said Gibbs reflectively. “The first time you showed up here … turned out you didn’t even know your _son_ had had the plague.”

“I remember, Gibbs,” said Senior stiffly, “I know I wasn’t always the best of fathers, but we’d been working on that. You know that.”

“I guess,” said Gibbs reluctantly.

“Tony’s only been gone two years,” said Tim.

“Nearer three,” said Senior.

“Still, it usually takes longer than that to have someone declared dead,” said Tim.

“There are ways around that,” said Senior. “The Court will take into account that Jun-Tony was a federal agent, living a dangerous life. That it’s more than likely that he was killed by a criminal.”

“He was on vacation,” protested Tim, “Skiing with his frat brothers in Montana.”

“Tim,” said Senior kindly, “You know better than that, you guys … you public servants … are never completely off duty or safe.”

“Court’s going to want to see some evidence that it is _likely_ that Tony was killed,” said Gibbs. “We didn’t find anything. And we looked. Hard.”

It was Tim’s time to sigh as he remembered the trauma when Tony had failed to return from his skiing trip. At first, Gibbs had been irritated, then angry at his apparent tardiness but the hours had stretched to days and then weeks. Tony’s frat brothers had confirmed that he had been in good form during their week together and that he had set off, as planned, to drive to Billings to take a plane to DC while they remained for an extra couple of days.

Snow had been forecast but it seemed that Tony had decided the risk of being stranded was less dangerous than the wrath of Gibbs if he was late back. Tony had never arrived to take his booked flight and there was no record of him having been in a crash. His credit cards had not been used and nobody admitted to having seen him.

When it had become clear that Tony was missing, Gibbs had scooped up his team and travelled to a snowbound Montana. As far as they could, they checked the routes Tony might have taken but this was made more difficult because there had been a crash on the most likely road meaning that he had probably taken a diversion along one of the minor roads. Montana was experiencing one of its worst winters for years and not even Gibbs’ glare and ferocity had melted the snow to enable easier access.

The Montana Highway Patrol had been sympathetic, but it was not the first time a driver had disappeared during a white out: they had done what they could, but the inference was clear, the Spring thaw would probably reveal what had happened to Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

The MCRT had eventually to admit defeat, trying to take comfort from the fact that Tony wasn’t in any of the State hospitals (or their morgues) and that his rental hadn’t been found. Less comforting, by the time they left for DC, was that if Tony was stranded somewhere out in the snow, he must be dead by now.

“Hey,” said Senior as he registered Tim’s sigh, “I know you miss him, Tim. I do too, he’s my son! But I figured you’d be glad to get things sorted out.”

“Excuse me?” said Tim.

“Well, you’re living in his apartment … but perhaps you don’t _want_ to be sorted out … this way you can carry on living there.”

“Mr DiNozzo,” said Tim stiffly, “You know that I’ve been paying rent into Tony’s bank account. It means that his mortgage is covered. It was the best thing to do, it meant that the Bank wasn’t going to have to foreclose and they were happy with it.”

“Tim,” said Gibbs, raising his hand in a pacifying gesture, “Calm down, we know you haven’t done anything wrong.” He looked at Senior, “Why the hurry, Chief?”

“Well, NCIS don’t seem to want to do anything about it,” said Senior, “So it’s up to me as Jun – I mean, Tony’s nearest relative.”

“Doesn’t explain the rush,” said Gibbs.

“It’s been nearly three years, I wouldn’t call that a rush.”

“Two years and seven months,” said Tim quietly.

“It’s time. And I’m not getting any younger … if we don’t get Junior’s affairs in order before I die, well, things will be complicated for someone else to work out.” Senior’s voice quavered as he hunched slightly to give the impression of frailty.

“Huh. Not sure what there is to get in order,” said Gibbs, “Like McGee said, his apartment is secure. He hasn’t got any dependants …” he looked sternly at Senior to make sure he knew that Gibbs didn’t consider _he_ was dependent on Tony.

“That’s because you don’t understand finance,” said Senior loftily, “There’s no point in having Jun-Tony’s money lying around doing nothing.”

“Ah,” said Gibbs as he suspected they’d come to the real reason that Senior wanted to have his son declared dead. “Got a deal that needs funding?”

“I resent your implication,” said Senior hotly. Gibbs shrugged. “I loved my son and it’s devastating that I’ve lost him …” Gibbs’ eyes softened slightly, he had to acknowledge that Senior had given every indication of being distraught when Tony disappeared. “But,” continued Senior, “He’d want me to be practical … and move on … like you all have.”

Gibbs glanced around the squad room and wondered if Senior was right. Had they moved on? Tim had taken over, eventually, as Senior Field Agent. Ziva had returned to Israel: Gibbs still wasn’t sure why she’d gone but somehow thought that Tony’s disappearance had been a factor. Abby still had a Tony memorial wall in place and had her computers on alert for any sightings. 

Ducky, on the surface, was the same affable and genial man as ever but Gibbs sensed that Tony’s loss had somehow aged him and that his well of internal sorrow had been topped up almost to overflowing. Jimmy Palmer had finally graduated from Medical School and was working his way towards qualifying as an ME: he was the only one who, after a period of mourning, had seemed to be least changed although he and Breena had named their first child Victoria Antonia.

And Gibbs? Had _he_ moved on? If Ducky had a well of sadness, then Gibbs had a well of guilt and Tony’s disappearance had added to it as he worried that whatever had happened to Tony had been caused by a reluctance to incur Gibbs’ anger by returning late from vacation. Gibbs sometimes felt that stoicism was his defining feature: somewhere along the line, he had lost the capacity for joy.

Gibbs’ glance around the squad room revealed that it was not only him who lacked joy but the whole team. They hadn’t realised it at the time, but it was Tony who brought zest and liveliness to the team: they might not have always appreciated it – and Gibbs almost smiled at the memories of how much it had _not_ been appreciated at times – but they had needed it. Agent Ellie Bishop was new to the team, but she was naturally serious and didn’t lift the spirits of her co-workers. The latest new Probie was still too scared to do anything as foolhardy as make a trick or pull a prank.

Gibbs didn’t sigh but he breathed a deep breath as he thought that perhaps they _had_ moved on, but not in a direction they wanted.

“Do what you want,” he told Senior, “Just leave us out of it.”

“I would have thought you’d want to do this,” said Senior, reluctant to give up on getting NCIS involved, “I mean, we’ll be able to have a memorial service … remember him properly.”

Suddenly, Gibbs was on his feet, “We remember him every day!” he hissed in fury, “We’ve never forgotten him. We don’t need a _Memorial_ service to honour him!”

McGee stood as well, ready to intervene in a way he couldn’t quite imagine: his hand-to-hand skills had improved immeasurably but he doubted he’d ever be able to take Gibbs down, especially a riled-up Gibbs.

“What’s going on here?” came another voice as Director Leon Vance walked down the stairs.

“Er, Mr DiNozzo was telling us about his plans to have … Tony … Agent DiNozzo declared dead,” said Tim realising that Gibbs was using his energy to hold on to his temper rather than replying to the Director.

“Special Agent DiNozzo hasn’t been missing for seven years,” said Vance coolly, “It seems a little premature.”

“ _I_ don’t believe it’s too early,” said Senior, “And despite what your agents think, Director Vance, I do have some rights and _insight_ into this.”

“I’m sure. Nevertheless, as I’m sure Agent Gibbs has made clear, this is not a matter that NCIS will get involved with. I’m sorry.” The Director turned away.

“You know,” said Senior, “Your agency’s reluctance to have my son declared dead makes me wonder if you know something about his disappearance.”

“Excuse me?” said Vance, turning back, suddenly conscious that McGee and Gibbs were watching him closely.

“I wonder if Junior has been sent on some undercover mission,” said Senior, “Or perhaps you know he’s been killed but you don’t want the circumstances to come out. I gather you’re quite the politician, Director Vance: always trying to protect the image of NCIS.”

“You’re right,” said Vance, “I do want to protect the image of this Agency but not at any cost. I can assure you that I am not aware of Agent DiNozzo’s whereabouts _or_ the circumstances surrounding his disappearance. Good morning,” and this time he went.

“You believe that, Gibbs?” asked Senior.

Gibbs hesitated for a moment or two. For some time, he had clung to the hope that Tony had indeed gone on some secret mission and had badgered Vance, the Secretary of the Navy and Fornell for information for months. Finally, in the face of flat, and apparently sincere, denials he had decided that was another hope he had to let go of. 

“Yes,” he answered Senior. He watched as Vance walked stiffly up the stairs, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you must believe that Tony is dead.”

But Gibbs wasn’t ready to admit that yet and he took refuge once more in his coffee mug. At that moment, his desk phone rang,

“Gibbs … what? OK. Yes.” He put the phone down, “Going for coffee,” he announced.

McGee estimated that Gibbs’ mug must still be more than half full and decided that the coffee addiction had another function: it gave him an excuse to leave situations he was uncomfortable with.

“Boss?” he asked.

“I’ll be back,” said Gibbs. McGee wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.

Gibbs brushed past Senior as he strode to the elevator.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave,” said Senior, reaching for humour.

“I guess,” said the normally polite McGee who was still smarting at the insinuation that he was profiting from Tony’s absence.

A few minutes later, Gibbs marched into his favoured coffee shop, and stopped short as he saw who was waiting there for him.

“Gibbs … Boss?” said Tony with a polite but hesitant smile.

Gibbs wasn’t sure whether to go for a hug or a head slap.


	2. Chapter 2

_Gibbs marched into his favoured coffee shop and stopped short as he saw who was waiting there for him._

_“Gibbs … Boss?” said Tony with a polite but hesitant smile._

_Gibbs wasn’t sure whether to go for a hug or a head slap._

In the event, Gibbs did neither. He walked up to Tony and gripped both of his shoulders hard while giving him a shake,

“What …? where …? I need coffee,” he managed finally.

“Might have to let go of me first,” said Tony mildly.

“Yeah,” said Gibbs but he didn’t let go and continued to stare at Tony as if he was checking that it was really him. At first glance, Tony looked the same as ever apart from being a little thinner: in some ways he looked more like the young detective Gibbs had recruited from Baltimore all those years ago.

Tony coughed, “Er, Gibbs … we’ve got an audience.” He jerked his head and Gibbs finally stopped gazing at him long enough to look around him and see that the other customers were indeed watching them with fascination. Gibbs released his grip on Tony’s shoulders but made sure to grab hold of one arm as if to make sure he didn’t disappear again.

“Go on,” he ordered, gesturing towards one of the booths, “Sit down, I’ll get the drinks in.”

“I’ve already got mine,” said Tony holding up his mug.

“Didn’t say one was for you,” said Gibbs drily, “I need more than one!”

Tony nodded and retreated obediently to a booth at the back of the shop.

The barista was swift to serve Gibbs, partly because she knew him of old and partly because she was agog to see what would happen next.

“Can’t believe it,” said Gibbs a few minutes later as he sat opposite Tony. “Thought I was hearing things when you phoned and said to meet you here.”

“You didn’t tell anyone?” asked Tony curiously. He looked at Gibbs steadily enough but his eyes skittered around the shop in an un-Tony nervous way.

“Didn’t know what to tell them,” said Gibbs honestly. “Wasn’t sure that I hadn’t been hearing things.”

“Yeah, I guess it was a lot to take in.”

“You think!”

“Yes.”

“That all you got to say?”

“What do you want me to say, Gibbs?”

Gibbs stared at Tony, “I don’t know. Something about where you’ve been all these months. Why you’ve shown up today … you know, stuff like that.”

“You should know why I showed up today,” said Tony with continued calm.

“Eh? What does that mean?”

Tony dug into a pocket and produced a page from a newspaper, “Saw this advert in the New York Times …”

“You’ve been in New York all this time?”

“New York Times is available in other places, Gibbs.”

“So what’s in the advert that brought you home?”

“Guess you didn’t bring your reading glasses with you?”

“I can read it,” protested Gibbs.

“It’s an advert saying that Anthony DiNozzo Junior had been missing for some time and asking for anyone with knowledge of his whereabouts to contact this attorney in New York.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“That brought you back?”

Gibbs recognised the exasperated expression on Tony’s face as the one he wore when someone had underestimated him, “Well yes, Gibbs. The attorney is someone Senior uses, so I figured he was involved with it some way … and advertising is something people do in preparation for having someone declared dead.”

“And?”

“Well, you know – funny thing but I thought that as I’m not _actually_ dead that it might be better not to be _declared_ dead … might be a tad tricky to unwind that sort of thing.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead, Tony,” said Gibbs softly.

This seemed to mollify Tony a little, “Thanks, Gibbs. I’m glad I’m not dead as well!”

“Your father was in the squad room this morning,” said Gibbs. “Trying to get us on board with getting you declared dead.”

“And what did you say?”

Gibbs shrugged, “Told him he should do what he wanted … but we wouldn’t be helping anytime soon. Vance weighed in as well.”

“He did?”

“Did Vance know?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re not dead?”

“Don’t see how he would know,” said Tony thoughtfully, “He’s not psychic or anything, is he?”

“Not that I know of. Although he might have the place bugged, the way he seems to show up at awkward times.”

“Says the master of the sweet spot in the squad room!” laughed Tony. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve only recently figured it out.”

“You want me to call your Dad?” asked Gibbs.

The amusement died from Tony’s face, “Nah,” he said after a pause, “Leave it for now. Not sure I could handle the recriminations …”

“He was upset,” said Gibbs, “Almost went to pieces when you were missing.”

“ _Almost_ probably being the operative word,” said Tony, “And it looks as if he’s got his mojo back now.”

“Tony …”

“Give it a while,” said Tony, “Not sure I want to risk seeing the look of disappointment when I show up alive and kicking … you know, it’ll all be my fault somehow.”

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee, “Good to see you, DiNozzo.”

“Yeah, I got that … when you nearly broke my shoulders! You must have been one mean tackler when you played football!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t knock your head off!”

“Granny Paddington always said I should count my blessings!”

“Is that why you came back?” asked Gibbs, “Because of the advert? Would you have stayed away if you hadn’t seen it?”

“No … I mean, yes – I came back because of the advert, it was a sort of trigger, but I would have come back soon in any case. Fee said it was time.”

“Fee? Who’s Fee?

“This could take some time …”

NCISNCIS

Tim McGee was in a disgruntled mood when he got home later that day. To be fair, he acknowledged, disgruntlement was pretty much a permanent state of affairs when one worked around Gibbs but today, he had excelled himself by stalking off and despite his threat/promise, not coming back. In the end, Tim had decided to give himself an early finish and left work in the late afternoon.

Tim had tried to phone but guessed that Gibbs’ phone was flat again, also a pretty permanent state of affairs. A few weeks before, Tim had had to confess to Gibbs that Tony’s stockpile of flip-phones had finally run dry and that it was no longer possible for Tim to _reboot_ Gibbs’ phone when he had taken his temper out on it once more.

Tim had been apprehensive about breaking the news and had tried for weeks to find another supply but even IT Kevin had come up short. And yet, Tim thought, surely Gibbs must have suspected something over the years. Gibbs was a top-notch investigator: he must have been puzzled that his phone never seemed to get scratched or bashed up but returned to him better than new after having been _rebooted_ for the umpteenth time.

So, Tim had had to bite the bullet and tell Gibbs that it was time to abandon the pleasurable satisfaction of pressing a button and see his phone flip open in exchange for embracing a smartphone: albeit the simplest and most basic smartphone on the market but, nevertheless, a smartphone. Gibbs had stared at McGee for many uncomfortable seconds before acquiescing. Or perhaps not entirely acquiescing; he was far too prone to forget to charge the new device, claiming that it was so light that he forgot it was there at all. McGee was beginning to suspect that cell phones, along with coffee addiction, were somehow all part of the carefully constructed Gibbs’ mystique.

Anyway, it meant that Tim was irritable and slightly jumpy when he arrived home that night. He opened the door, threw his keys into the dish on the side table and then jumped when he saw someone standing by his bookshelves.

“Federal Agent! Hands in the air!” he shouted as he drew his weapon.

The figure turned around, “I think _I’m_ a Federal Agent too,” he said, “And I think this is my apartment.”

“Tony?” gasped Tim. “What … what are you doing here?”

“I live here,” said Tony crossly, “What are _you_ doing here?”

Tim holstered his weapon and strode across the room to catch Tony in the largest hug he had ever given anyone in his life. “You’re alive!”

Tony smiled as he returned the hug, “I know … and you have a talent for stating the obvious!”

“Idiot!” said Tim, “I could have shot you! What would have happened then?”

“Well,” said Tony, “As you’re a highly trained Federal Agent _and_ a member of Gibbs’ team, I assume that I’d be dead … I mean, you weren’t always great at longer range shots but at this distance …”

“Idiot!” repeated Tim. “You’re alive!”

“You’ve said that,” said Tony. “Have you been taking lessons from Abby?”

“What?”

“The hugs … they’re very Abby-like.”

“Wait! I’ve got to tell Gibbs, tell everyone!”

“Gibbs knows.”

Tim let go of Tony and stepped back, “He knows! How long has he known? Do you mean he’s …”

Tony looked at his watch, “About three hours, I guess. I left him about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh … so he didn’t already know?”

“Nope. Tim, it’s good to see you and all but what are you doing in my apartment? And where’s my stuff?”

“I live here,” said Tim, “We figured that if I paid rent into your bank account, it would cover your mortgage. And, by the way, how come we didn’t know that you were _buying_ this place?”

“Man’s got to have his secrets,” said Tony.

“Seems you’ve got a few more going on,” said Tim. “And don’t worry, your stuff is safe. All packed up and in storage.”

“And where’s Kate?” asked Tony, looking around.

There were lots of things worrying Tim about Tony’s as yet unexplained reappearance, but this was a new one. “Uh, Tony,” he said gently, “Kate’s dead.”

“What! Oh no,” gasped Tony.

Tim laid a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder, “I know, we all took it hard.”

“How did it happen?”

“Well …”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be too shocked,” said Tony, “I guess she couldn’t go on for ever …”

“Tony?”

“Was it old age? Or did she get sick? Did she suffer?”

“Tony, do you mean Kate the _goldfish_?”

“Well, of course, I mean Kate the fish! Human Kate died years ago.”

Tim breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that Tony might not be suffering from amnesia after all. “It’s OK, Kate’s not dead … I mean, _Kate_ is but not goldfish Kate. I just moved them into the bedroom.”

“ _Them_? Are you trying to tell me that there’s been a happy event while I’ve been gone?”

“Kate and Ziva. I got a new goldfish – in honour of Ziva,” he hurried on before Tony could think the worst, “Ziva’s not dead, she’s just gone … back to Israel. It seemed fitting to get another fish …”

“Thanks, Tim. And thanks for looking after the place. It looks different – it confused me.” Tony looked around in a slightly lost way.

“You know, Tony, you’ve been asking me a lot of questions – how about answering some?”

“Fair enough,” agreed Tony, “You mind if we order in pizza? It’s been a tiring day.”

Tim agreed, being in need of comfort food and something familiar to ground him.

“Shoot,” he said when the order had been placed.

“OK,” agreed Tony, “But I thought that Gibbs would have filled you in already. I’d have put it down to functional muteness, but he was talking to me all right earlier.”

For answer, Tim raised his cell, “I’m guessing his phone’s off-charge and he didn’t realise until you’d left him: he probably tried to call me.”

“Thought he had a rule about that,” said Tony, “Something about not being out of contact.”

“Rule 3. But since when did the rules apply to the Boss?”

“That sounded a little bitter, Tim. You OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“He used to keep his phone charged though,” said Tony, “Has something changed?”

“I had to move him on to a smartphone. Your stash of flip-phones finally ran out.”

“Thank God,” said Tony, “Then it’s safe for me to come back.”

“What?”

“I knew it was about to happen,” confessed Tony, “So I decided I’d have to disappear. You’re a better man than me, Tim … braver too. I couldn’t face it.”

“You mean … you mean,” stuttered Tim, “That you ran away because you were scared to tell Gibbs he’d have to use a phone like a normal human being?”

“No,” said Tony, he grinned, “But that had you going for a moment, didn’t it?”

“Remind me why I missed you,” groused Tim.

“I don’t know why you missed me,” said Tony, suddenly serious. “Did you really miss me?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I can think of lots of reasons,” said Tony soberly.

“So, what happened, Tony?”

Tony sighed, “You know that I was driving to Billings – to catch a flight back to DC?”

“Sure. And you didn’t get there. Or at least, as far as we could tell, you didn’t get there.”

“Started snowing almost as soon as I hit the road. I wasn’t too bothered: the road was a good one and the rental company had put an emergency pack in the car in case I got stuck. And I’m a good driver.”

“And?”

“Well, maybe not as good of a driver as I thought. It had been a while since I drove in conditions like that. But I’d have been OK but there was an accident and the road was closed. I was running out of time to make my flight, so I couldn’t wait it out. Looked at a map on my cell and there seemed to be a way around the closure so I took it.”

“Sounds sensible,” said Tim, “Although the airport was closed because of the snow, so you wouldn’t have been flying out anyway.”

“I figured it was better to be stranded at the airport than tell Gibbs I’d got caught up in traffic. I’ve got a DiNozzo rule about always having a good excuse ready. So, I started off down this other road … or, more accurately, a track.”

“Ouch.”

“And see, you thought it was a good idea and that’s because you’re a modern sort of guy,” said Tony, “Computer savvy and all that.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“But there was a fatal flaw,” said Tony moodily.

“What?”

“I lost the signal on my cell.”

“Ouch,” said Tim again.

“So, I was driving blind. Almost literally, the cell wasn’t helping. And it was night-time, and the snow was coming down so fast that I couldn’t see more than a few yards in front of me. I drove a few miles – the track was too narrow for me to turn around although I looked for some turning spaces. And then the car gave up.”

“What did you do?”

“I figured I’d stay put. That’s what the advice is usually but I was kinda worried because I was really off the main roads. I mean, I had my emergency pack, but I didn’t figure that a bar of chocolate, a flash light and a blanket would be much help. But I hunkered down for about an hour and then I got out of the car.”

“Why?”

“Tim, I’d been in the car for hours … I hadn’t stopped for any _comfort_ halts. Why do you think I got out?”

“Ah, nature called?”

“Yeah. Although _nature_ wasn’t exactly my favourite thing at that moment. Anyway, I got out of the car and after I’d attended to what needed attending to, I saw a light.”

“You had a religious experience?” asked McGee doubtfully.

“Not that sort of light, a light that looked as if it was in someone’s house.”

“Ah, I guess that makes more sense.”

“And I decided it would be better to make for it rather than wait to be rescued … or wait for my dead frozen body to be found in the Spring. I figured I had my big boots on, my ski jacket was warm, and I had a flashlight – and I was a Federal Agent …”

“Still are,” said Tim.

“I wonder,” said Tony, “It might have lapsed by now, I’ve been away for a while. Anyway, I got out of the car and started walking. Turns out that the house or cabin or whatever it was, was further away than I thought. Think there was a hill or two in the way. And a stream – which wasn’t quite frozen enough.”

“You fell in?”

“I didn’t fall,” said Tony stiffly, “I just walked through it unexpectedly. And I was already pretty wet … and cold so it didn’t matter too much.”

“What happened?”

“I kept going. Not gonna lie, Tim, it was the thought of Gibbs head-slapping me silly if I died in a snowy wilderness that kept me going. Well, that and the thought that the house I was heading to might offer me a cowboy steak.” Tony laughed, for a reason Tim could not discern.

“How long did you walk for.”

“Felt like hours. Probably was. I was beginning not to care and beginning not to feel cold either.”

“Tony …”

“Yeah, and I knew that wasn’t a good thing, so I kept going. I wondered if hell was cold rather than hot and that’s where I’d ended up. And then, finally, I came to some sort of manmade structure.”

“You found the house?”

“Turned out, not. It was just a wood store. Pretty full so there wasn’t much room for me, but I couldn’t go any further, so I just squeezed in as best I could.”

“And what happened afterwards?”

“It’s pretty hazy, Tim. I either fell asleep or passed out.”

“Thought DiNozzos didn’t pass out,” teased Tim.

“Turns out they might do when they’ve been walking for miles in the snow and cold,” said Tony.

“How long were you there?”

“Rest of the night. I had the blanket but the bits of me that couldn’t get into the wood store were covered with snow.”

“And you woke up in the morning?”

“No. Fee came out to stock up the fire in the cabin, found me. Thought I was dead. And I would’ve been.”

“What did she do?”

Tony was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. “Pizza!”


	3. Chapter 3

FLASHBACK

Fee looked out of the window and saw that the snow had abated a little. A glance at the sky indicated that this was a temporary respite and that it would be a good idea to trudge out to the woodstore to replenish the supply: this was no weather in which to run out of fuel for the fire!

The snow might not have been falling quite as fast, but the wind had got up and it tugged at Fee’s clothes on the walk to the shelter. Fee’s eyes were stinging by the time the destination was reached so it was a moment or two before the slumped figure of a man became clear.

For a moment, Fee feared that he was dead, so still did he lie but a quick feel of the neck revealed a faint but steady pulse. The next problem was how to get the visitor into the house; he was a large man who was beyond Fee’s ability to carry. Fee was used, however, to living in an isolated part of the country and therefore used to self-sufficiency: the presence of a sledge at the back of the woodstore came to mind.

Fee managed to manoeuvre the man on to the sledge and started the journey to the house: it took a while but was managed in the end although Fee had to resort to rolling him along the floor to end up in front of the fire. Part of Fee wanted to start tending the new arrival but another glance out of the window revealed that the snow was coming down faster again and that a new stock of wood was still needed: it would be even less of a good idea to run out now there was a potentially sick visitor to care for.

It wasn’t long before Fee was back in the house, having used the sledge once more – this time to bring back a large stack of wood. The visitor was still lying where he had been left although Fee thought it was possible he had crept a little closer to the fire and its warmth.

Fee noted that the top half of the man was relatively warm and dry – that was the part which had been in the store and which had also been protected by what looked like an expensive ski jacket. The bottom half had fared less well, his legs were wet and felt cold to the touch. Fee removed the boots and was relieved to see that the feet were dry, kept so by the sturdy boots. Fee knew there was a danger of both frostbite and hypothermia and that the visitor needed to be warmed up as soon as possible.

Fee hurried off to get blankets and pillows and to heat water, hoping that the man would wake up enough to be able to drink something. 

“W-w-what?” murmured Tony when Fee returned.

“You’re awake!”

“W-w-what?” repeated Tony.

“I found you in my woodshed. You looked cold, so I brought you in.”

“W-w-what?”

“Not much of a conversationalist, are you?” joked Fee.

Tony frowned at that, somewhere in his confusion, he knew this was an unusual accusation to be levelled at him, but he couldn’t make sense of it. “Huh,” he managed by way of variation.

“Can you drink something? You need to get warm.”

Tony managed a nod at that but didn’t seem able to reach out a hand to take the drink that was being held out to him.

“Let me help you.” Fee put an arm around the man’s shoulders and managed to lift him enough to be able to put the cup to his lips so he could drink.

“T-t-thank,” Tony managed before his eyes closed.

“Stay awake,” ordered Fee, “And I need to take your pants off. It’ll be easier if you’re awake.”

Somewhere in the depth of his mind, Tony thought there should be some sort of witty, possibly risqué, response to this but, once again, he couldn’t verbalise it so simply muttered, “’kay …”

Fee managed to get the wet pants off and dried off Tony’s legs before wrapping them in blankets.

“Think you’ll need to stay on the floor. Warmest place and I can’t lift you. I’ll get you a hot water bottle.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed at this: somehow, he didn’t think he’d ever had a hot water bottle.

Fee cocooned Tony in more blankets and tucked hot water bottles at strategic points and after a few minutes Tony’s eyes began to drift shut again.

“What’s your name?” asked Fee.

“Uh …” Tony racked his tired brain, “Uh … Junior.”

“Junior?” But there was no response, _Junior_ had fallen asleep again and this time there was no waking him.

Some hours passed, Fee kept vigil over Junior and periodically renewed the cooling bottles and kept the fire stoked up. On checking his feet and legs, it seemed that they were warming up nicely and Fee thought that circulation seemed good: it might be that Junior had avoided a bad bout of hypothermia.

It was nearly time to replace the hot water bottles when Fee realised that the visitor’s eyes were open and that he looked a little more alert than when he had previously been awake.

“How you feeling, Junior?”

“Huh?”

“I asked how you’re feeling,” said Fee.

“Confused … where am I?”

“My house. Found you in the woodshed. I’m guessing you got lost in the snow.”

“Huh, I guess.”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” Tony looked around the room and then seemed to realise something was missing, “I haven’t got any pants on.”

“I took them off. Don’t worry, your honour is intact!”

“Eh?” Tony wasn’t up to witty repartee yet.

“I don’t think you’re going to get hypothermia, but it would be good to get some fluids in you. Warm you up from the inside. Think you could manage some soup?”

Tony was still struggling for meaning and somehow, he didn't think that offers of warm soup were often made to him, "Huh"

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Fee easily. “Wait there. I’ll be back.”

Tony might be confused about a lot of things but the thought of staying warm and cosy, next to a warming fire made complete sense to him and he managed a nod.

This time, Tony managed to stay awake until Fee returned with a mug of warm soup, “You think you could sit up a bit? Be easier to drink it that way? It’s not too hot, don’t want you burning your mouth, do we?”

From the tone of his rescuer’s voice, Tony thought that the right response was a nod, so he nodded and managed to shuffle across the floor to lean against a chair. He snaked a hand out from his cocoon of blankets and took the mug.

“Hmm,” he said. “Good. ‘s it?”

Fee correctly interpreted this as _what is it_ and replied, “Lentil and carrot. It’s good for you.”

Tony didn’t care whether it was good for him or not, the soup was warming him up and he could almost imagine the heat moving down his body.

“’hank you,” he managed when he had drained the cup.

“You’re welcome, Junior.”

Tony cocked his head, _Junior_ felt both completely right and completely wrong, but he couldn’t think why. Fee seemed to sense the confusion,

“Don’t worry about anything now. We’re not going anywhere in a hurry and, unless you’ve got friends wandering out there like you, we’re not getting any visitors. Nobody to know that you don’t know which way is up or what day it is.”

Tony frowned, trying to grasp what might be the wrong way up and slightly worrying that it was his fault something was upside-down, but the voice was reassuring and calm and Tony decided, for the moment, that obedience was the best … and indeed only … option so he allowed his eyes to close once more.

Fee rescued the mug before it tumbled to the floor and tucked the blankets around him a little more closely. _Junior_ was a good-looking guy and well-dressed, so it was a puzzle what he’d been doing wandering around in a blizzard, he didn’t look like the sort of person to go astray or have nobody looking out for him. 

An hour or so later, Tony awoke once more, and this time found himself alone in the room. Tony was still very tired and not up to thinking much but he still had an instinct to familiarise himself with his surroundings. He saw that he was in a large wood-lined room with colourful rugs on the floor and photographs of mountains and lakes on the wall. There was a kitchen area off to one side and a number of other doors suggesting that the house had a number of other rooms. The room was lit by oil lamps although it looked as if there were electric lights as well.

“Wind generator’s bust,” said Fee, coming back into the room, “I’ll have to fix it later, when the storm eases but we’re OK till then. Got oil lamps and the range heats the house. And we’ve got the fire.”

Tony nodded but it didn’t make much sense to him, somehow, he didn’t think he’d been around oil lamps before.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“They call me Fee. Nice to meet you.”

Tony frowned, “Who? Who’s _they_?”

Fee grinned, this was the sort of literal question a child would ask, “Oh, you know. Folks. That’s what they call me.”

“That you?” asked Tony pointing to a photo on a small table by the fire.

“You’ve got a good eye, Junior,” said Fee.

“Huh?” Tony wasn’t sure why the praise warmed him and why the warm feeling felt unfamiliar.

“Most people don’t recognise me in it,” explained Fee.

“Looks … familiar …” managed Tony.

“I would hope so,” said Fee, “That’s the Lincoln Memorial. You been there?”

Tony shook his head, not so much in denial as to try to make his brain work. “Maybe,” he ventured.

“1963,” said Fee. “That was a great day.”

“Lots … many … people,” managed Tony. He couldn’t remember what year it was so wasn’t sure if 1963 was the current year or many years ago, “They the ones who call you Fee?”

“Not then,” said Fee, “Not then.”

“You know all of them?” asked Tony pointing to the people surrounding the young African-American in the picture.

“Some of them, not all of them.”

“Hugging …” said Tony, somehow feeling that you didn’t hug people you didn’t know.

“Yes, it was that sort of day,” said Fee reminiscently.

“What sort … of … day?” asked Tony sleepily but feeling that asking questions was better than being _questioned_ himself; he didn’t think he had many answers.

“The day of the speech. Dr King, ‘I have a dream.”

“He does?”

“Not anymore,” said Fee sadly, “Not anymore.”

“Oh.”

“You want some more soup?”

This was the sort of question Tony could answer and he nodded enthusiastically. Fee laughed, and Tony felt it was a very _cheering_ sound and, despite his disorientation, he felt safe at that moment.

Fee woke up in the middle of the night wondering what the unusual noise was. Tony should be settled down cosily for the night, he was still muddled and confused but seemed to be getting better, but Fee realised that the noise was coming from the main room. Grabbing a torch, Fee stumbled out of bed, went to investigate and soon saw, and heard, that Tony was coughing and, in the light of the torch, it was apparent that he was also running a fever.

Fee sighed, it seemed that his visitor had avoided one illness only to succumb to another.

END FLASHBACK

“So, what did she do?” asked Tim after they had taken the edge of their hunger.

“She?” replied Tony through a mouthful of pizza.

“Shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” reproved Tim, “Didn’t your Mom ever tell you that?”

“Expect so,” said Tony with a shrug, “You do everything your Mom tells _you_?”

Tim suspected Tony was trying to divert him and ignored the question in favour of repeating his own original question, “So, what did she do? You know, you said she found you in the wood store. What did she do?”

“Can’t remember much about it,” confessed Tony, “Dragged me into the cabin … house, I was pretty much out of it. Got me warm and dry, think hot water bottles were involved somewhere.” Tony wore a happy smile Tim was not used to seeing on his face.

“And?”

“And I didn’t get hypothermia,” said Tony proudly.

“Good.”

“Which was probably just as well,” said Tony thoughtfully, “Because Fee’s cabin was miles from anywhere and even when it wasn’t snowing it wasn’t easy to get to.”

“Um, Tony, you not getting hypothermia doesn’t explain why you’ve been gone all this time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you didn’t get hypothermia and I’m really, really glad to see you … but …”

“You’d really, really like to know what happened?” grinned Tony.

“Yes,” said Tim simply.

“You know, it’s embarrassing having to admit that I got lost,” protested Tony.

“DiNozzo!” said Tim, “You … we … aren’t Gibbs. We get lost.”

“OK,” said Tony, “Well, after I _didn’t_ get hypo-whatsit, I got pneumonia.”

“Pneumonia?”

“Yep. Really wasn’t my day … well, apart from meeting up with Fee, of course.”

“Might have known you’d hook up with a woman,” said Tim.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Come on, Tony. There’s _always_ a woman.”

“So, you’ve deduced that Fee’s a woman?”

“Yes! So, what happened next? What did _she_ do?”

“Well, clearly I didn’t die … unless I’ve come back to haunt you.”

“So, Fee was a good nurse.”

“I guess so. You’re right about that. But …”

“What?”

“But Fee’s not a she, he’s a he.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Fee’s a man?”

“Yep,” replied Tony.

“Huh,” said Tim before shrugging, “Well, I guess I had a 50-50 chance of being right,” he said philosophically.

“Well,” said Tony, “Actually there are slightly more women than men in America …”

“What?”

“I said there are …”

“I heard you … you really think talking about how many men there are in America is the most _important_ thing we need to talk about?”

“Well, not the most important,” conceded Tony, “But it’s pretty interesting, don’t you think? What’s that noise?” Tony broke off as he heard a drumming sound getting louder outside the door to his apartment.

“Ah,” said Tim, “It sounds like …”

The door burst open and Abby came hurtling through with Gibbs trailing behind.

“ _Abby_! I told you to slow down,” came his irritated voice.

It was unusual for Abby to ignore her Silver Fox, but she did so this time as she threw herself into Tony’s arms. He managed to stand up in time, but it had been more than two years since he had had to catch her, and he was out of practice. He staggered back into his chair under her weight and the chair toppled back taking both of them with it. Abby didn’t seem to notice and clung to Tony,

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” she said over and over again.

“Boss! Tim!” gasped Tony as he tried to disentangle himself from an octopus-like Abby.

Gibbs and Tim exchanged a wry glance and then swung into action to pull Abby off Tony. Abby was unperturbed by being peeled off Tony and didn’t stop talking,

“Tony! I’ve missed you! Where have you been? I missed you … I’ve got so much to tell you!”

Tony righted his chair and sat back down, still breathing slightly heavily. “Uh, nice to see you too, Abby,” he managed.

“Is that all you have to say?” demanded Abby, “You’ve been got for two years, seven months, three days and …” she paused to look at her phone, “five hours … and that’s all you have to say? It’s _nice_ to see me?” She punched him on the arm and then hugged him again, “Oh, Anthony DiNozzo, I’ve missed you so much. I promised I wouldn’t cry, but … Timmy, give me a handkerchief!”

Tim hastily supplied a hankie and Abby proceeded to dab at her eyes, before seating herself on Tony’s lap and wrapping an arm around his neck.

“You told Abby then?” asked Tony.

“You think?” said Gibbs.

“And she wanted to come see for herself?” said Tim.

“Good to know my team can pick up on little clues,” said Gibbs impatiently.

“You trained us well,” said Tony. “Abby, we have pizza. I seem to remember that you get hungry when you get emotional.”

“Pizza? You think this is a good time to eat pizza?” she demanded.

“Well, I think pretty much any time is good to eat pizza,” said Tony honestly.

“That is true,” conceded Abby, “But Tony, you know I don’t like pepperoni and sausage on pizza.”

“I haven’t got sausage, pepperoni and extra cheese pizza,” said Tony, “I’ve got a four cheese one.”

“What?” asked Abby.

“You got what?” said Gibbs.

“What?” said Tony defensively, “So, I like cheese pizza. People can change, you know.”

“I guess,” said Abby doubtfully, “But … you … eating _cheese_ pizza? Are you sure you’re feeling OK, Tony?”

“I’m fine,” said Tony, hoping he was telling the truth and that Abby had only _bruised_ him with her hugs rather than actually fracturing any ribs.

Abby helped herself to a slice of four cheese pizza, poked Tony more or less gently in the tummy and said, “Go on then, spill. Tell us where you’ve been.”

Tony sighed, “I told Gibbs everything. Why don’t you ask him?”

Abby also sighed but turned obediently enough to Gibbs, “Gibbs, you tell us then.”

Gibbs shrugged, “He got lost, got found, got sick and got well again.”

“That’s it?” exclaimed Abby, “Eleven words to sum up two years, seven months, three days …”

“Abby …,” interrupted Gibbs.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Abby swept on, “All that matters is that you’re back again and you’re well again. You are well again, aren’t you?”

“ _I_ want to know more,” demanded Tim. “I want to know more about this _Fee_ … and what happened when you got sick.”

“I don’t remember much about it,” said Tony. “I was sick, remember.”

FLASHBACK

The week after Fee discovered Tony coughing and running a fever was a difficult time for both carer and patient. 

The snow finally stopped but the wind increased and howled around the house creating an eerie sound which seemed to make Tony anxious and fretful. The temperature dropped still further meaning that Fee had to make frequent visits to the woodstore to get more supplies of wood to keep the house warm.

Tony only slept intermittently which meant, in turn, that Fee slept little either. Fee tried everything he knew to get Tony’s fever to break but it had a firm hold on him.

“Come on, Junior, try to drink this. It’ll help,” he soothed as he tried to get Tony to take a cooling drink, but his patient shied away from his touch.

“Kate!” he moaned, “I’m sorry … I’m sorry … “

“It’s all right, Junior,” said Fee, “No need to be sorry. It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. It won’t ever be right. I’m sorry, I’ll try to do better …”

“I know you will, Junior. I know you will. Here, try and take this.”

“No, it won’t be all right. I’ll end up in the gutter. You don’t care.”

“I do care, Junior …”

“No, you don’t, you don’t! Paula! Don’t go! Paula!”

“Junior, calm down, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Gutter … gutter … that’s what … that’s where I’ll …”

“No, you won’t, Junior. No, you won’t.”

“You don’t mean it. Jenny … I should have been there … Jenny … it’s my fault …”

“Junior, don’t worry about it now … you need to calm down … you need to rest.”

“Boss … Boss … don’t make me kiss you! Boss, come back … come back!”

Tony became even more restless and agitated, trying to throw off his blankets and showing signs of wanting to get up from his bed on the floor. Fee gripped his arms, and at the end of his tether, said firmly,

“No, you have to stay here. You have to calm down.”

For a moment or two, Tony stilled obediently. Fee frowned as he realised that his patient responded better to firmness than gentleness and that being called _Junior_ seemed to agitate him more.

“Good,” he said in the same firm voice, “That’s right.”

From that time on, Fee didn’t call his visitor _Junior_ and spoke to him kindly but firmly and that seemed to work better. Fee tried the experiment of calling him _Son_ but that had the same effect as being called Junior. Fee decided the subject of what to call him would have to wait until he had recovered.

The fever broke after a few days, but _Junior_ was still coughing and seemed to be exhausted by his ordeal. He slept for long periods and didn’t wake up unless he had a particularly bad coughing spell. Gradually, however, the sleep became more restful and, in turn, Fee was also able to get some much-needed rest.

Ten days after Tony had arrived at the house, Fee came into his living room to find Tony looking more alert.

“You look better,” he said.

“Where am I?” asked Tony tiredly.

“My place,” said Fee. “What do you remember?”

Tony frowned, “How did I get here?”

“Don’t know. I figured you walked,” said Fee. “Where did you come from?”

“Don’t remember,” said Tony with another frown. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you.”

“Um … Gee? Lee?”

“Close, I’m Fee. Nice to meet you, Junior,” Fee used the name cautiously, but it didn’t seem to cause any distress this time.

“Fee. Fee. Have you been looking after me?”

“Yes. Found you in my woodshed.”

“I remember. Thank you. You gave me soup. And got me warm.”

“You’re more than welcome. Want some soup now? You need to start eating again, you know.”

Tony shook his head, “Where is everyone?”

“I’m the only one here. Probably won’t see anyone till the Spring now. This is a pretty remote place, I’m afraid. Have you got people looking for you?”

Tony’s brow wrinkled as he thought about this, but the effort seemed too much, and he fell asleep once more.

As the days went by, Tony stayed awake for longer periods, but he was still drained and exhausted by what Fee suspected had been a bad bout of pneumonia. He began to eat and drink, however, and his strength started to return although it seemed to Fee that he wasn’t much of a talker and was content to lie in front of the fire and watch the flames.

“Hey, Junior,” said Fee as he helped Tony back from a visit to the bathroom, “You want to try sitting on the rocker for a while?”

“Sure,” said Tony agreeably, allowing himself to be led to the rocking chair, “Nice,” he said with a smile as he rocked himself to and fro.

“My granny had a chair like that,” said Fee reminiscently, “I can picture her sitting in her old rocker, knitting away. She was always knitting. Don’t know why …”

“Eh?”

“She was a terrible knitter,” chuckled Fee, “Dropped stitches, uneven sleeves, hats too big and necks too tight … but we wore whatever she made us.”

“Why?”

“She said she made them with love. That every stitch showed us she cared. Well, you know, it’s kinda difficult to refuse that sort of gift.”

“What did you do?”

Fee chuckled again, “Oh, Junior! We used to wait until we were out of sight and take those hats, scarves, sweaters off … oh my, she’d have been mad if she’d known.”

Tony laughed too but then said, “Why do you call me _Junior_?”

“You told me it was your name.”

“I did?”

“Sure.”

“Huh.”

“Is it your name?” asked Fee.

The familiar frown appeared on Tony’s face, “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel … right.”

“Then what _is_ your name?”

“I don’t remember,” said Tony quietly.

“I see,” said Fee, not unsurprised, “When you were ill you called out for some other people. Kate, Jenny, Paula … who are they?”

“I don’t know!” said Tony, he clenched his fists as he tried to stay calm. “I’ve been lying here for days, thinking I’d remember who I am, but I haven’t! What’s happened?”

“You’ve been very ill,” said Fee calmly, “Sometimes it’s hard to remember after an illness. Try not to worry … there’s plenty of time. Neither of us is going anywhere for a while. Nobody will know.” Fee wasn’t sure why he added that last comment, but he suspected that part of his visitor’s anxiety was almost a sense of shame, of weakness that this had happened to him. 

Tony gazed at Fee, surprised to find that he did trust this elderly man.

“We’ll have to think of something to call you,” said Fee. “Doesn’t seem that _Junior_ fits.”

“Didn’t I have any ID with me?” asked Tony.

“I didn’t find anything,” said Fee.

“That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“If you’d been walking for a long time, you might have lost it,” said Fee. “The weather was so bad, you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you’d dropped it … or perhaps you left it behind.”

“Left it where?”

Fee shrugged, “My guess is that your car broke down and you started walking. You could have left your ID in the car …”

“So, we might be able to find my car?”

“Sure. But not for a while. The snow’s frozen now, it’ll be some time before we can get out of this valley to go looking. Don’t worry, we’ll get there …”

Tony’s memory was shot but he had an instinct that Fee’s calm kindness and care was something rare in his life. He nodded, somehow, he trusted that Fee was right.

END FLASHBACK

“Well, what do you remember?” asked Tim.

“Tim, I was sick,” said Tony, “I don’t remember much about it and when I started taking notice again, I had other things on my mind.”

“Like what?” asked Abby.

“Did you ever find my car?” asked Tony. “What?” he asked, when he saw a look of distress on Abby’s face.

“Yes,” said Tim.

“And? Hey, you’ve been moaning at me about withholding information. What happened?”

“It was months later,” said Abby. “We had a BOLO out on you and on the rental car, but we didn’t get anything and then Covington Police Department contacted us …”

“Covington? That’s in …”

“Georgia,” confirmed Tim.

“They’d found the car,” said Abby but it was a wreck, it had gone off the road into a tree, there was blood on the driver’s seat,” her voice faltered.

“We thought that you might have been in it,” said Gibbs stoically.

“It was like La Grenouille all over again,” said McGee glumly.

“Gibbs, Bishop and McGee went down to Covington,” said Abby, “To help the search.”

Tony wanted to ask who _Bishop_ was but decided not to interrupt.

“We searched around where the car went off the road,” continued Gibbs, “Checked all the hospitals but you weren’t there. Best we could figure, the driver must have walked away from the scene. Abby ran the DNA on the blood sample and we knew it wasn’t you in the accident. We had to take that as good news.”

“I’m sorry,” said Tony. “When we could get out of the cabin and when I was up to walking more than a few yards, we went searching for the car … but I couldn’t remember where I’d left it … and we couldn’t find it, so we figured in the end that someone must have stolen it. They sure went on one hell of a joy ride – 2000 miles!”

“Never found out who the driver was,” said McGee, “His … or her … DNA wasn’t in the system anywhere, so they probably hadn’t been in trouble before, so we couldn’t ask them where they found the car.”

“Hey,” said Tony with an attempt at humour, “I hope I’m not still being charged for the rental!”

“Tony!” snapped Abby, “Is that all you can think about? We’ve been worried sick for months about you … and you just _joke_ about it?”

“I’m sorry,” said Tony, “Abs, I didn’t mean to upset you …”

Abby managed a watery smile at Tony’s first use of her nickname, “Well, just you remember, Mister that we … well, we didn’t know what to do without you. Bossman was even grumpier than usual and sometimes he forgot to bring me a CafPow!”

Tony tweaked a pigtail, “Duly noted. And I am sorry. I-I-I guess I didn’t think you’d be that upset.”

Gibbs, McGee and Abby glared at Tony in disbelief.

“Is that why you didn’t come back?” asked Tim, “I mean, I get that you were stuck there for a while when you were sick and when you were snowed in. But the snow must have melted sometime, is that why you didn’t come back? Because you thought we didn’t care?”

“No, Tim. That’s not why I didn’t come back,” said Tony.

“Then why didn’t you come back?” asked Abby

“When I got over the pneumonia … well, I couldn’t remember anything,” said Tony, “I didn’t know where to come back to. I didn’t know where I belonged.”


	5. Chapter 5

_“When I got over the pneumonia … well, I couldn’t remember anything,” said Tony, “I didn’t know where to come back to. I didn’t know where I belonged.”_

“What happened?” asked Tim.

Tony sighed, feeling somehow that the Federal Agents renowned for their detective abilities should be able to work it out, “Well, Tim, I remembered. It just took a while.”

Abby and Tim opened their mouths in readiness for another barrage of questions but were forestalled by Gibbs yawning and stretching his arms,

“Been a long day,” he announced, “I’m going home. DiNozzo, grab your gear!” Gibbs was conscious of a feeling of satisfaction as Tony instinctively looked around for his backpack.

“But, Boss,” objected Tim, “Tony _is_ home. I mean, this is his apartment. He should stay. I’ll find somewhere else.”

“And what about Delilah?” asked Gibbs. “Where’s she going to rack?”

“Oh,” said Tim, “I forgot …”

“You live with Delilah now?” asked Tony with interest.

“Sure …” said Tim.

“And it’s really good for Delilah living here,” said Abby earnestly, “Especially since they had the adaptations done.”

“What? Why did you need adaptations done?” asked Tony.

“Uh, well, Delilah … she’s … uh, well, she’s in a wheelchair now,” said Tim.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, Tim,” said Tony, “Well, you should definitely stay here then.”

“But …” began Tim.

“Tim, we can sort it out later,” ordered Gibbs, “DiNozzo can come to mine.”

“I’ll come too,” said Abby eagerly.

“Thought tonight was a bowling night,” said Gibbs.

“Well …”

“Don’t want to let the sisters down,” said Gibbs, “And they’ll want to know that DiNozzo is back … after all those prayers they’ve been sending up.”

“I guess,” said Abby reluctantly, “But I don’t want to leave Tony … it’s been so long …”

“He’ll still be here tomorrow,” said Gibbs confidently.

Abby was prised reluctantly from Tony and she left with a promise of catching up properly the next day.

Tony followed Gibbs out of his apartment block but when they reached Gibbs’ car, said,

“Boss, you don’t have to put me up. I can find somewhere …”

“Yeah? Like where? You got your bank accounts sorted out yet?”

Fee had lent Tony some money for the journey, but he suspected it wouldn’t be enough to spring for many nights’ accommodation in DC, so he nodded and said,

“Thanks, Boss,” as he got into the car.

They drove in silence, partly because Tony was readjusting to Gibbs’ driving and partly because he was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the day’s experiences: it was never likely that Gibbs would break a silence.

“Same as I remember it,” commented Tony when they pulled up outside Gibbs’ house. Gibbs shot him a sideways glance but didn’t reply directly.

“Got some of your gear in the spare room,” he said, “Some clothes and some of your DVDs.”

“ _Some_?”

“How big do you think my place is? Didn’t have room for all those designer clothes … and the shoes. Sheesh, DiNozzo, how many shoes does one person need anyway?”

“Don’t know. Never reached my limit,” said Tony absently.

“Coffee?” asked Gibbs, “Something stronger?”

“Didn’t think there was anything stronger than your coffee, Gibbs. Got any tea? I feel pretty wired already, don’t think adding too much caffeine is a good idea.”

“Help yourself, Ducky brought some tea over a while back. Think he thought he’d convert me.”

A few minutes later, sitting reasonably companionably in Gibbs’ living room and each nursing their chosen beverage, Tony spoke,

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you yawn before. Or look tired.”

“Figured you needed to get out of there,” commented Gibbs. “You were looking kinda spooked.”

“Should’ve known I wouldn’t get anything past you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just feels odd, Gibbs. Everything’s the same, except it isn’t. My apartment, but not my apartment. Tim living with someone and that someone had a life changing injury. You’re all older … _you’re_ not wearing a polo shirt … everything seems to have shifted a bit. It’s hard to get hold of.”

“Change happens. You’ve been gone a long time, DiNozzo.”

“I guess. I suppose I’m catching up on more than two years’ worth of changes all in one go.”

“That it?”

“Well, I’ve been living somewhere pretty quiet … DC’s a shock to the system.”

“I get that …” At that moment, there was a knock at the door and Ducky walked in, “Looks like the grapevine is in working order,” said Gibbs drily. “We’re in here, Duck,” he called.

Tony didn’t expect to be grappled to the floor as he had with Abby, but out of caution, he stood in order to be prepared for anything.

“My dear boy,” said Ducky, “My dear, dear boy, it is so good to see you,” he gripped Tony by the upper arms and looked searchingly into his face, “We … _I_ … have missed you so much.”

Tony was surprised to see that there were tears in Ducky’s eyes, “Good to see you too, Ducky.”

“You must tell me everything that has been going on with you, Anthony …”

“I’ll make you some tea,” said Gibbs, deciding to make an escape.

“How long have you got?” asked Tony attempting a joke.

“As long as necessary, my dear boy. These old eyes have been hungry to see you.”

“Well …” said Tony, wondering where to begin.

FLASHBACK

“You need a name,” announced Fee, “I’m going to call you _Jason_.”

“ _Jason_?” Tony looked distinctly underwhelmed, “I don’t think I’m a Jason. Why Jason anyway?”

“After Jason Bourne … he’s a character in a movie who has amnesia,” said Fee.

“A character who’s an ex-CIA assassin,” said Tony discontentedly.

“I was focussing more on the amnesia than the assassin,” said Fee. “And, you know your movies.”

“Huh, I guess I do,” said Tony. “Do you like movies too?”

“I’ve been known to go watch a few … hundred,” said Fee with a twinkle.

“Good to know, but I don’t really go for Jason.”

“OK,” said Fee agreeably, “I’ll call you _J_. You can think of it as being short for Junior …”

“I don’t think so,” said Tony firmly.

“No, I guess you’d prefer to be James … after James Bond.”

“J it is,” said Tony, deciding to go along with Fee’s choice and keep to himself what he thought J stood for.

“And it’s just till you start remembering,” said Fee.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then you don’t,” said Fee serenely, “Don’t borrow trouble. That’s my rule … hey, what did I say that made you frown?”

“Don’t know … something about rules, I think.”

“Oh well, I’m sure it will all make sense one day. Now, I think it’s time you met Brenda.”

“Brenda? I didn’t know there was anyone else living here? Where’s she been hiding?”

“Come and see,” invited Fee and beckoned Tony to follow him. “Used to be the garage and woodstore,” he said as he opened a door at the end of a corridor. “I swapped things around although it means it’s a bit of a walk to go and stock up on wood.”

Tony sniffed, “It’s a …”

“Cowshed. That’s right. And this is Brenda … she’s been supplying the milk for your coffee and oatmeal.”

“Um,” said Tony uncertainly, “Aren’t you supposed to do … stuff … to milk before you drink it?”

Fee laughed, “I’m guessing you’re a city boy! Don’t worry, you’re safe. I’ve got a home pasteuriser set up. Say hello!”

“To a cow?” asked Tony doubtfully. Brenda swung her head around and looked at him in a weighing-up sort of way.

“Sure. She likes company. Must get lonely here in winter. Although she’s got a window, so she can see what’s going on.”

Tony looked through said window and thought that the snowy landscape probably didn’t cheer Brenda up very much. “Hello,” he said obediently.

“Brenda, this is J,” said Fee. “Hey, give her a pat … she likes to be stroked over her eyes.”

Until now, Tony had been becoming fond of Fee, but he began to revise his opinion.

“Go on,” said Fee encouragingly, “She won’t bite.”

Tony extended a hesitant hand.

“Of course, she might head butt you,” said Fee.

Tony didn’t know much about his own character, but he discovered that he didn’t back down from a challenge, so he patted Brenda on the head. The cow seemed as underwhelmed by the experience as Tony.

“Great. Now you can learn to milk her!” Fee sensed this hadn’t gone down well with his visitor, “It’d be a help. I get arthritis and sitting down on that milking stool sets it off.”

Tony was aware of the huge debt he owed Fee so, more or less willingly, he sat down in readiness for his first lesson. Brenda was a placid animal, but she looked affronted at being milked by someone so incompetent … it was a disturbing experience for Tony to be looked at with such incredulity.

As the days lengthened into weeks, however Tony began to enjoy milking Brenda: it was almost a meditative experience and Brenda turned out to be a good and unjudgmental listener who didn’t feel the need constantly to be offering advice. It was after a milking session that Tony asked Fee a question that had been worrying him,

“When do you think we’ll be able to leave here?”

Fee frowned as he thought, “Shouldn’t be too long now. Worst of the snow falls should be over, it’s just the freeze that’s the problem. Until we get a thaw, no vehicles will be able to get through.”

“And will they get through?”

“Huh? What you mean?”

“Well, you’re pretty isolated up here … will anyone come looking for you?”

“Don’t worry, J … I’ve got folks looking out for me. Soon as they can, they’ll come looking for me.”

“You get cut off every year?”

“Most years.”

“And you’re here by yourself?”

“Sure, I like it that way. Summers are social times but winter – well, you can hunker down and think deep thoughts without being bothered with other people.”

“Sounds good,” said Tony doubtfully, there was something in Fee’s eyes that spoke of some sorrow he wanted to be alone with. 

“They may have news about you,” said Fee helpfully.

“I guess,” said Tony, now doubtful about something else.

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” said Tony again, “But … well, this may sound crazy …”

“Son, I nursed you for weeks, I’ve seen most things about you … don’t think you can shock me.”

“I’m not sure I want to be found,” confessed Tony.

“What? But you might have folks out there looking for you.”

“I know … but I think I’d rather find myself, if that makes sense.”

“No, but carry on. Convince me.”

“If there is someone out there for me … they’ll find me and tell me about myself. They’ll fill in the gaps …”

“And?”

“I think I’d rather remember for myself … be sure I’d found the real me … even if it turns out to be someone I didn’t like or someone nobody else recognised. Does that make sense?”

“I guess,” said Fee thoughtfully. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Do? I guess I haven’t thought about it …”

“J,” said Fee severely, “You must have been thinking about it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have asked when the cavalry is arriving.”

“You know, Brenda is a lot less demanding,” said Tony with feigned crossness.

“Go on.”

“Well, I guess I was wondering if, when your friends come to check up on you, I could sort of stay out of sight …”

“Well …”

“I mean, if they come and say that a homicidal axeman went missing in the snow, you can tell them then … but otherwise, just for now … could I stay?”

“For how long? I mean, I don’t mind having you here. And Brenda’s taken to you … but you can’t stay here for ever. You must have a life out there somewhere. And you can’t hide here forever.”

“No, I know. But maybe, if I don’t remember soon, I could just be someone who’s visiting you … then I don’t have to hide. Once the winter’s over, people won’t know when I got here, they’ll just think I’m a friend. A milking friend!”

“I don’t understand why,” admitted Fee, “Why don’t you want to find out who you are?”

“I don’t know, Fee,” said Tony, “It feels like a huge hole inside of me, an ache, a pain. And it’s sort of OK, bearable here but I think it might not be if I left. I’ll go if you want me to …”

“No,” admitted Fee, “I’d miss you … and Brenda would probably stop giving me milk. Stay if you think it would help.”

Tony wasn’t sure why, but he thought staying in the only place that felt like home, felt safe was the best thing for him at the moment.

END FLASHBACK

Tony finished giving Ducky the edited highlights of his stay with Fee.

“Well, I suppose it made some sense,” mused Ducky, “To stay somewhere safe and familiar while you waited for your memories to return. Where were you staying, Anthony? It would be interesting to know if Jethro ever got within reach of you …”

“It was pretty remote,” said Tony, “Never heard anyone mention a search for someone missing.”

“I see,” Ducky looked as if he wanted to probe further but thought of something else of interest, “Mr … I should say, _Dr_ Palmer is a father, you know!”

“Jimmy! A dad! Hey, that’s great!”

“He named his little girl, Victoria …”

“After your mother?”

“Indeed. And he and Breena gave her the middle name of Antonia – after a dear, and much missed, friend.”

“He did that?” said Tony in astonishment.

“I have just said so. And why should you be some surprised at that?”

“It just seems … well, I wouldn’t have thought he cared enough to do that,” said Tony.

“I thought your memory had returned, Anthony.”

“It has.”

“Then surely you remember the affection you were … are … held in by your co-workers?”

“Ducky … I tried to tell the others. I remember but …”

“But what?”

“I remember what happened. What we said and did but … I don’t really remember the _feelings_ behind it all. I remember what we said and did … but I don’t understand _why_. I didn’t expect people to have missed me … to have even _liked_ me.”

“And is that why you stayed away so long … because you thought we didn’t care?”

“Partly, I guess …” Tony was telling the truth but was aware of another reason he had stayed away.


	6. Chapter 6

FLASHBACK

A day came when Fee seemed restless and slightly anxious.

“You’re disturbing Brenda,” said Tony as he milked the cow.

“What?”

“You know Brenda, she likes a calm atmosphere,” said Tony with faux expertise.

“What?” asked Fee again.

“You keep looking out the window,” said Tony, “As if you’re looking for something.”

“I think we’re about to have visitors.”

Tony cocked his head as if to listen better, “I can’t hear anything. You sure?”

“The weather’s changed,” explained Fee, “I think the thaw’s come. People will come to see if I’m OK, if I’ve survived the winter.”

“Oh. Then I guess I’d better find somewhere to lay low.”

“You still want to do this?” asked Fee, “You really don’t want people to find you?”

“No. But the offer still stands … you get told you’ve been harbouring a dangerous criminal and you can turn me in.”

“I’ll take my chances. The hayloft above here should be a good place for you to …”

“Hide is the word you’re looking for,” said Tony.

It turned out that Fee was right. Later that morning a sturdy four-wheel drive truck drew up in front of the house and a middle-aged couple jumped out. From his vantage point in the hayloft, Tony could see that they were slightly apprehensive about what they would find and seemed to be overjoyed when Fee went out to meet them. The woman dived back into the truck and brought out a package before giving him another hug; her companion patted Fee on the back and all three went into the house.

Tony stayed where he was for a couple of hours until the visitors left.

“You can come out now,” called Fee.

Tony climbed down the ladder a little sheepishly.

“You’re OK,” said Fee, “Doesn’t seem that you’re an escaped master criminal after all! I guess you’d have killed me in my sleep by now, if you were.”

“Nobody been looking for me?” Tony wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Not that they mentioned.”

“They looked … nice people,” suggested Tony.

“Craig and Julia. Known them since I moved here.”

“They looked anxious,” said Tony. “Any reason?”

“Worried that the sponge cake would suffer on the trip,” said Fee.

“Fee?” pressed Tony, somehow knowing that Fee was being evasive.

“All right, they probably thought I might have died during the winter,” said Fee with a hint of irritation.

“Why? Is it dangerous around here? I mean, I know I nearly died out there but we’re pretty much agreed that I’m a greenhorn in the snow.”

“My wife … Vi – Violet – died last year …” tears built in Fee’s eyes as he remembered. “I took it … well, we’d been married nearly 50 years … it was tough.”

“I’m sorry, Fee,” said Tony, “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Craig and Julia … and some others … wanted me to stay with them over the winter, so they could keep an eye on me. Said I shouldn’t be on my own out here …”

“They may have a point,” said Tony.

“Says the man who’s hiding out here because he’s worried about finding out who he really is,” said Fee with uncharacteristic sharpness.

Tony held up his hands in mock surrender, “OK, OK … I give in but …”

“No buts,” said Fee firmly, “And no backchat otherwise I won’t let you have a piece of Craig’s cake …”

“ _Craig_ bakes?”

“Used to run a patisserie in New York, _Craig’s Confections_ he said it was called,” Fee closed his eyes as if to summon a picture of a shop full of pastries, “It was a good day for these parts when he and Julia decided to move away from the city,” he said happily.

Tony shelved his worries about Fee in favour of sampling a Craig confection.

As the months passed, Tony’s memories stayed stubbornly out of reach, but he began to engage more with the people who visited Fee regularly. He and Fee stuck to the story that he was an acquaintance who had come to stay for the summer.

Tony had no stories about his past to share with Fee so, almost by default, he learned a little more about Fee’s life.

One day, Fee talked about the people in the photo of the Lincoln Memorial and, in particular, the girl standing next to him.

“That’s Vi … we’d just met. Kinda bonded over wanting to listen to Dr King,” he explained. “Wonderful times, so full of hope …”

“Did you live in DC?”

“No, I’d just started at Lincoln University in Chester County … studying law. I went to DC to listen to Dr King.”

“You’re a lawyer?”

“No, dropped out. Turned out law wasn’t for me.”

“Why?”

“Violet’s parents didn’t approve of me … or not so much of _me_ as Vi wanting to _marry_ me. They were traditional, you see – didn’t want their daughter to marry someone who … looked like me.”

“I’m guessing Vi didn’t agree with them?”

Fee laughed, “Vi had a mind of her own! We eloped … and came to Helena. The plan was that I’d go back to law school when we had some money.”

“What happened?”

Fee laughed again, “We never had the money! Vi was a nurse – she wanted me to go back to school so I did … but as the janitor! But I went to night school and trained to be an electrician. Ended up being in charge of the maintenance at the school … then Vi got a job as the school nurse. It was a good life.”

“Did you have children?”

“Thousands! But none of our own, that didn’t happen, but we saw hundreds of children grow up every year.”

“Did Vi’s parents come around?”

“I tried to get Vi to reach out to them but my Vi, she was stubborn. She wouldn’t forgive them for not welcoming me into the family … and I reckon they were as stubborn as she was. They all died without coming to terms.” Fee sighed but didn’t seem to want to say anything more.

“Was the school nearby?”

“No. School was in Helena but when we retired, well, we had a hankering for somewhere quiet. We liked people, but we didn’t need anyone else. She was my life and she said I was all she needed. And we were lucky, got a lottery win to top up our savings and found this place. It was run down but we loved it as soon as we saw it and here we are. We had five happy years here …” Fee swallowed down his emotion, “I guess missing Vi makes me understand you, J.”

“Eh?”

“You said you had a hole inside you … where _you_ should be. I reckon I’ve got a hole inside me where Vi should be … I’m grieving for Vi and you’re grieving for your memories.”

Tony managed a grin and held out his mug of tea in a toast, “Must have been fate that sent me here that night,” he joked.

“I think more than one person got saved that night,” said Fee seriously.

NCISNCIS

The months slid by and Fall was approaching. Tony was milking Brenda when Fee came in and said,

“Veterinarian’s coming over to see Brenda.”

“She’s not sick, is she?” asked Tony anxiously.

“No, she’s fine … he comes to give her an annual once over. And here he is …”

Tony looked up and saw the sunlight glint on a short-cropped head of silver hair and felt something shift within him.

“Lester, this is …” began Fee as way of introduction.

In sudden certainty, Tony rose from the stool and stretched out his hand, “Tony,” he said, “Tony DiNozzo.” He looked across at Fee whose mouth had fallen open and nodded, “Yes, Tony DiNozzo. That’s my name.”

Lester looked slightly puzzled at Tony’s reiteration of his name but was used to eccentric clients and turned his attention to Brenda. Fee managed to resist interrogating Tony until Lester had completed his examination, had three slices of a Craig confection, mulled over local gossip and then hurried away realising he still had two calls to make.

As soon as the veterinarian was out of sight, Fee turned eagerly to his guest, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Tony in something of a daze. “It came back to me. Name, job … who knows, if Lester didn’t have silver hair I might not have remembered.”

“Does your father have silver hair?” asked Fee compassionately.

Tony frowned, “I guess so, but I don’t think that’s what the trigger was. I’ve got a Boss who’s got grey hair … looked like Lester’s in the sunlight.”

Fee wondered why it was Tony’s Boss who brought back Tony’s memories rather than his father but decided there were other questions to be asked first,

“So, Tony … and not J?”

“’fraid so – although you can call me J if you want.”

“And Tony – what was it again?”

“DiNozzo. Big D, little I, Big N, little ozzo.”

“Tony DiNozzo … _Junior_?”

“Oh yes. My father is Anthony DiNozzo senior. Or as he likes to say, the _real_ Anthony DiNozzo.”

Fee felt this was something else that might need to be unpacked later, “So,” he said, “Tell me about Tony DiNozzo … what does he do … who’s going to be missing him?”

END FLASHBACK

“If you continue to struggle with remembering the _feelings_ ,” said Ducky, “Then perhaps you should consider some counselling to help with that … I’m sure I could recommend someone who could assist you … it would be a fascinating area to investigate. I would be happy to offer my services but perhaps you would feel more comfortable with someone else … I really must give the subject some thought, I’m sure that there must be something in one of the psychological journals about these symptoms. I wonder …”

“DiNozzo’ll be OK when he gets back to work,” said Gibbs firmly.

Tony opened his mouth and then shut it again before speaking.

Ducky detected some uncertainty but, tactfully, decided it was time that he left. “Do give the matter some consideration, Anthony. And be assured that I will also ponder who might best be able to help you. I will see you on the morrow, no doubt.”

“Thanks, Ducky,” said Tony.

“The pleasure is all mine, my dear boy. And may I just say once more, what a joy it is to have you restored to us? And now, you must not keep me talking like this – you need your rest; no doubt today has been an emotional day. Jethro …”

But Gibbs was standing by the door in an obvious signal that it was time for the doctor to leave.

“Quite right, Jethro,” said Ducky humbly, “It is past time for me to make my adieux … or rather my _au revoirs_ as I will see you …”

Gibbs managed to shuffle Ducky out the door.

“Thanks, Boss,” said Tony gratefully. “I know he means well but …”

“You’ll be fine when you get back to work,” said Gibbs confidently.

“Yeah, about that …”

“What? You’re coming back, aren’t you? Isn’t that why you showed up today?”

“I guess. But I’d forgotten … hadn’t realised … that things might have changed.”

“I know your apartment didn’t look the same,” said Gibbs, “But nothing else has changed.”

“What about McGee - he’s your Senior Field Agent now, isn’t he?”

“Had to have someone, DiNozzo.”

“Not blaming anyone, Gibbs. Just saying, what do _I_ do?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I know you’d favour me just coming back and clearing his gear out of my desk and let him find out in the morning. But that’s not really my style.”

“DiNozzo …”

“Not a good way of doing things, Gibbs. Believe me, I remember.”

“Thought you told Ducky you didn’t remember the feelings.”

Tony frowned, “You’re right … maybe I do remember some of the feelings after all … just not the good ones, assuming there were some. But Gibbs, I can’t do that to Tim … even assuming Vance would stand by and let me demote him.”

“We’ll work something out …but not now, Ducky’s right, you need to get some rest … what the …” Gibbs broke off as Abby came bursting through the door.

“We won the bowling!” she announced.

“Could’ve waited till tomorrow to hear that,” said Gibbs.

“I know, I know, but then I thought of something. Something really important,” said Abby breathlessly.

“What?” asked Tony.

“You’ll be pleased,” said Abby earnestly, “Look …” she went out again and soon returned holding someone by the hand, “Surprise!” she squealed.

“Junior?” said Senior as he saw his son sitting on Gibbs’ couch. “You’re alive?”

“Good to see you too, Dad,” said Tony wearily, suddenly feeling even more tired.


	7. Chapter 7

“Good to see you, Dad,” said Tony, standing up to welcome his father.

“Junior! It’s true! You’re here!” Senior enfolded Tony in a hug and then, releasing him, grabbed hold of his hands.

“You look good, Dad.”

“I found this great skin-peel place in Virginia, it’s taken years off. I’ll give you the address,” Senior paused as he looked at his son’s hands, “Looks as if you could do with some skin care, Junior … you know what I always told you about the importance of moisturising.”

“I know, Dad. Things got away from me a bit.”

“Good skin care pays dividends in later life. Remember that.”

“Isn’t this great?” squealed Abby clapping her hands together and jumping up and down in excitement, “I can’t think how we forgot to let Mr D know … I’m so glad I remembered.” She looked around the room and deflated slightly as she sensed that her excitement was not shared by everyone else.

“Where have you been, Anthony?” asked Senior. “I was worried.”

“Montana. I saw the adverts.”

“For Montana?”

“No, the adverts asking if anyone had seen me. Asking people to get in contact with Alistair James: still using him, I guess?”

“He’s a good lawyer. Junior, I didn’t want to think you were dead … but we had to be practical …”

“Not _we_ ,” interrupted Gibbs, “It was your idea.”

“Gibbs, I tried to explain – we … I … had to get Junior’s finances sorted out. If you were a businessman, you’d understand how these things work.”

“Odd thing,” said Gibbs, “Reckon I’d be concentrating more on being a father than a businessman.”

Senior flushed and said a little huffily, “I didn’t want my son to be dead, but I was facing the facts, trying to move on. You understand, don’t you, Junior?”

Tony gazed at his father, “Yes, I understand perfectly.”

Tony then looked at Gibbs with an expression that showed exactly what he understood about his father. Meanwhile, Abby quivered once more with excitement and sighed, “This is so cool!”

“So, you’re back now?” asked Senior.

“Sure. Got some things to work out. Need to find somewhere to live.”

“What about your apartment?”

“Tim’s living there. Can’t just kick him out.”

Gibbs paused in case Senior was going to offer his son some accommodation but then said, “You can rack here until you’re sorted, DiNozzo.”

“Thanks, Boss. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.”

“You _want_ your apartment back, Tony?” asked Gibbs.

“Don’t know, Boss. Think I’d like somewhere with a yard now. I got used to open spaces.”

“You were living somewhere with _land_?” asked Senior.

“I guess you could say that,” said Tony, smiling as he remembered the land surrounding Fee’s cabin.

“So, what happened, Junior?”

“I got lost in the snow … someone found me … then I got sick and then I couldn’t remember anything for a while.”

“For nearly three years?” asked Senior, “You couldn’t remember anything for _three_ years?”

“For a good while,” said Tony evasively. “You know, I didn’t mean for anyone to be worried. I didn’t get lost on purpose.”

“Well, you’re back now,” said Senior, “That’s the main thing. If you need any help getting your accounts sorted out, let me know.”

“I will, Dad. Thank you. And thank you for showing up now.”

“I’m your father, Anthony,” said Senior with a pointed look at Gibbs, “Of course _I showed up_.”

“Well, thanks anyway.”

“We’ll have to catch up properly,” said Senior looking at his watch.

“You’re going?” asked Gibbs with a mixture of hope and disapproval.

“I wish I didn’t have to, but I’ve got an important meeting … I phoned to postpone it, so I could come here but they won’t wait for ever. You know, wheels to oil, hands to shake … it’s what being an entrepreneur is about.”

“It’s OK, Dad,” said Tony, conscious that Abby had stopped bouncing and Gibbs was frowning. “You go and do what you have to.”

“Thanks, Junior. I knew you’d understand,” he hugged Tony once more and said, “I really did miss you, you know.”

“I know, Dad. I know,” returning the hug and patting his father on the back.

Tony and Senior walked to the front door leaving Gibbs and Abby to catch snippets of conversations about skin care and Senior’s newly discovered Dead Sea Mud hand cream which had brought about extraordinary benefits.

Tony returned to the living room and saw Abby’s sadness and Gibbs’ fury. He raised a hand placatingly,

“Not now, guys. Not now, I just want to hit the rack and sleep. Spare room, Boss?”

Gibbs nodded wordlessly. Tony kissed Abby on the cheek, “Thanks, Abs. See you later.”

“But, T …” began Abby.

“Leave it, Abby,” ordered Gibbs.

“But, Gibbs,” said Abby when she was sure Tony had left the room, “Tony’s been gone for so long … and Mr D was really worried about him … and he just left – for a _business_ meeting …”

“Not all fathers are good fathers, Abby,” said Gibbs, “We’ll just have to be there for him.”

Abby sniffed and walked over to Gibbs for a hug.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered.

“No, Abs, it’s not,” he agreed.

Tony threw himself on to the bed in the spare room and put an arm over his eyes as he came to terms once more with his father’s lack of interest. Tony supposed that, if there had not been a pressing business opportunity, Senior might have stayed around a little longer but there was always a _pressing business opportunity_ and Tony knew he should be used to it by now.

After a few minutes, he decided to give up on his pity party and sat up. He gazed at his hands which had drawn Senior’s disapproval and laughed softly.

FLASHBACK

“You know,” Tony said conversationally to Fee, “I used to have really smooth hands. The ladies often commented on them.”

“Can’t have soft hands out here,” said Fee unsympathetically. “And if you were better at wood chopping, you wouldn’t have so many nicks and splinters.”

“I’m getting better,” protested Tony.

“But it’s a good thing you’ve got me to remove the splinters,” said Fee, “For a grown man, you make a lot of fuss.”

“Abby used banana peel to get rid of a splinter once, it came out gradually, really gently,” reminisced Tony, “But then I got another one … and Gibbs cut it out with his really big knife.”

“I’m guessing you favour the Abby approach?”

“You didn’t see the size of the knife,” joked Tony.

“J, is that why you’re still here? You’re hoping somehow to go back gradually? That’s not going to work, you know.”

“I know,” sighed Tony. “And in some ways you know, I favour quick and dirty … and Gibbs’ knife didn’t hurt as much as I thought. I guess anticipation is sometimes worse than the reality.”

“Then go back,” urged Fee.

“I thought you liked having me here,” said Tony a little pathetically.

“I do … but you going back doesn’t mean you can’t come back _here_ , you know.”

“I guess … no, I don’t guess – I _know_. Hey, you want to take a walk down to the river? Weather’s getting worse, might not be able to many more times this year.”

“Sure,” said Fee, “But go slowly. My knees are playing up.”

As they approached the river on the edge of Fee’s property, he returned to the question of Tony leaving,

“Why don’t you want to go back? I still don’t get it. Don’t you like being a federal agent?”

“I love it,” said Tony, “When I had to change career options when I bust my leg, I never really thought I’d find something else I was good at.”

“And you’re good at it?”

Tony thought for a moment or two, “Yes, I am. I sometimes forget that … and sometimes I let other people forget too … but yes, I’m good at it.”

“Then why not go back?”

“I see what I did, and I can’t make out if I should go back or not.”

“Killing people?” said Fee sympathetically.

“What? Oh no, not that. I mean, I don’t _like_ shooting people but if I couldn’t cope with that, I’d have quit years ago.”

“Then what?”

“I wonder if my co-workers would want me back. I do like my teasing, you know … McGee would probably call it something else. And it’s competitive – Gibbs has a rule: well, actually, he has lots of rules but one of them is ‘always work as a team’ but he sets it up that it’s a competitive team. He gets results by making us compete to find him the answer he wants. And, _if_ we do, most times we just get this brief look of approval: or at least, I _think_ that’s what we get, blink and you’ll miss it. Or he might just have gas and that gives him that look.”

“You argue a lot?”

“Not with Gibbs,” laughed Tony, “Although I do if I have to. But there’s a lot of banter with the others … or I thought it was banter, you know – friendly, but looking back I can’t quite get it.”

“It’s tough seeing things from the outside,” suggested Fee, “Look at me and Violet. Some people couldn’t understand how we could live together ‘cos we were different in lots of ways, but it worked, and I figure it worked _because_ of the differences and not despite them. But you had to be on the _inside_ to understand that. I reckon you might find the same with your team. You might know what was on the inside when you see them again, when you see how they react to you going back.”

By this time, Fee and Tony had reached the river. Tony picked up a stone and skimmed it across the water. He handed another one to Fee who also threw it and made it bounce five times.

“Show off,” said Tony amicably. He bent to pick another pair of stones and spotted something in the long grass: he picked that up instead. “You know,” he said with a gesture towards the water, “When I got lost, I thought I’d just walked through a little stream, didn’t realise how big it was.”

“You’re lucky it was frozen,” said Fee, “Otherwise you might have drowned.”

“I guess,” said Tony. “Huh, it must have been here that I hit the water.”

“How do you know?”

“This,” said Tony, showing Fee what he had found, “My wallet … and creds … must have fallen out when I fell down. I wondered where it had gone. Guess my cell phone might be around here somewhere too.”

Fee looked at Tony’s NCIS photo, “You look serious here.”

“I can be serious, you know. And the higherups don’t really approve of face-pulling in official photos.”

“I can imagine,” said Fee, “And somehow, I get the feeling you might know about that from personal experience.”

Tony grinned, “Personal _and_ bitter experience. You think it’s a sign?”

“What?”

“Finding this and …” Tony looked in the wallet again, “$450! Maybe someone up there is telling me it’s time to go back.”

Fee noted that Tony didn’t say go _home_ but he simply said, “You don’t need anyone from _up there_ telling you to go back. _I’ve_ been telling you ever since you started remembering.”

“All right,” said Tony with sudden resolution, “I’ll go back. After the weekend, OK?”

NCISNCIS

The next day, Tony hiked into the nearest settlement to get some supplies for Fee whose knees were hurting him even more that day. He met Craig and Julia in the general store and fell into conversation with them,

“Fee said you might be heading out soon,” said Julia.

“That’s right,” said Tony, “It’s been a good … break but it’s time to get on with things, you know.”

“You’ve been good for Fee,” said Craig, “He was really down when Vi died. They lived for one another.”

“Yeah, so he said,” agreed Tony.

“We tried to persuade him to come into town for the winter,” continued Craig, “It’s not really safe for him to be out there alone. Well, you’ve seen how long you can be cut off for.”

“Hmm,” said Tony absentmindedly as he tried to remember what sort of lentils Fee had wanted.

“We almost didn’t expect him to make it through last winter,” said Julia.

“He seems fit enough,” said Tony, “I mean, I know his joints play him up, but he takes it slow.”

Julia and Craig exchanged significant looks. Craig hesitated but then said cheerfully, “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. We’re just worrywarts. He’ll be fine.”

Two days later, Tony hiked back again in readiness to start his journey back to DC. He had stocked Fee’s storerooms as much as he could and chopped up what felt like half the forest, but he couldn’t help but replay the conversation with Julia and Craig. Fee had been determinedly cheerful ever since Tony had announced that he was leaving but the brave face had faltered a little and Tony knew that his departure would leave a hole in Fee’s life.

Fee had hugged Tony goodbye and told him to keep in touch before slapping him on the back and retreating to Brenda’s cowshed.

As Tony waited by the bus stop, he saw Lester the veterinarian pull up nearby. There was still some time to go before the bus left so Tony went over for a final farewell,

“Just heading up to Fee’s place,” announced Lester.

“Yeah?”

“I found a place for Brenda.”

“What?”

“Fee told me that he doesn’t think he can manage to look after her through the winter. Asked me to look around for somewhere that wanted a good milk cow. Didn’t think I’d find anywhere but I did … and they’ve promised not to sell her off for meat.”

“Fee didn’t tell me he was letting Brenda go,” said Tony as he remembered that Fee had been heading towards the cowshed when he had left.

Lester shrugged, “Probably the right thing to do. An animal’s a big responsibility.”

Tony nodded and walked away. He saw a phone box on the other side of the road and had a sudden impulse to call Gibbs and tell him he was on his way. He dialled Gibbs’ home number from memory and waited for an answer. As he waited however, the pieces fell into place: Julia and Craig’s anxiety about Fee all alone with his sorrow and now his deciding to get rid of his beloved Brenda. Somehow, Tony didn’t think Fee intended to survive this winter. Fee had saved Tony from the snow but, Tony now realised, _he_ had probably also saved Fee that winter.

Tony slammed the phone down and hurried across to where Lester was just starting up his truck,

“Hey! Change of plan! Can you give me a ride down to Fee’s? And I don’t think he’ll be needing you to take Brenda anywhere today.”

Lester’s beaming smile showed that he shared Tony’s misgivings about what Fee might be about to do and approved of what Tony was going to do.

END FLASHBACK

“I was coming back,” said Tony suddenly as he sat with Gibbs at the breakfast table the next morning.

“When?” Gibbs suspected that Tony was talking just to avoid any conversation about his father’s arrival the previous night.

“Just about a year after I got lost in the snow. About a month after I started remembering.”

“What happened?”

“I even called you … to let you know I was on my way.”

“I didn’t get a call.”

“No, I hung up before you could answer. And I rang _here_ so it’s not likely you’d have been home anyway …”

“Why did you hang up?”

“I changed my mind about coming back.”

“Well, I guessed that – why did you change your mind?”

“Partly because I still wasn’t sure about whether or not it was a good idea but mostly …”

“Mostly?”

“I realised that Fee needed me. He’d saved me … and he needed me to save him.”

“How so?”

“His wife had died the previous year and he felt that he didn’t have much to live for. That winter I showed up, well, I’m not sure if he planned to kill himself but I don’t think he’d have tried very hard to stay alive. Me showing up sort of put an end to that. And he cheered up while I was there. And with his name: he should be happy.”

Gibbs didn’t pursue the question of Fee’s happy name but said, “So why did you stay?”

“Found out he was getting rid of Brenda. You know, Brenda the cow. He loved Brenda …”

“And you didn’t?” broke in Gibbs.

“We didn’t get off to a good start,” admitted Tony, “But we bonded in the end. Anyway, I found out he was letting Brenda go and I figured it was to make it easier for him to kill himself if it all got too much. While he had her to look after, I think he’d have stuck it out. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t killed himself before I got there. Who knows?”

“So, you stayed for an old man you hardly knew?”

“I did know him, Gibbs. I knew he’d saved me, I knew he was a good man and I knew that he needed me. What would you have done?”

“Well, I might not have put the phone down before my Boss answered,” said Gibbs crossly.

“Seemed simpler not to have the cavalry ride in to my rescue,” said Tony, “And if I hurried, I had the chance of getting a ride back to Fee’s place … and saving Brenda. Bit of a no brainer really.”

“I guess,” said Gibbs still a little doubtful and a little irked that they had nearly got Tony back months earlier.

“And Boss, you know my Dad.”

“Yes?”

“I’d only known Fee for a few months, but he was already more of a father to me than my Dad had ever been. What else could I do?”


	8. Chapter 8

FLASHBACK

“J? What are you doing back?” asked Fee when Tony walked into the cowshed. “Did you miss the bus?”

“Met Lester,” said Tony.

“Ah,” said Fee with a hint of embarrassment.

“He was worried.”

“About what?”

“Said he had some bad news for you.”

“What bad news?”

“I offered to tell you,” said Tony, “And he gave me a ride back.”

“What’s this bad news?”

“The folks who were going to have Brenda … turns out they can’t after all. Lester said he’d keep looking for someone to take her off your hands but he’s not hopeful.”

“And he couldn’t face giving me the bad news?” asked Fee doubtfully.

“Seems he can face down a raging bull but giving you bad news is too much for him,” said Tony with a straight face.

“Imagine that,” said Fee drily, “But you shouldn’t have missed your bus just for that.”

“There’ll be another one,” said Tony easily, “And Lester felt really bad about it.”

“I’m sure.”

“So he gave me this,” and Tony pulled a wriggly little kitten from his inside pocket.

“What?”

“It’s a kitten,” said Tony as he stroked a tiny head. “Her name’s Mo.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you think she looks like a Mo?” asked Tony as he held the cat aloft.

“I don’t know what a Mo looks like, but I meant why did Lester give you a cat? Especially as you’ll be leaving soon.”

“He said he’d been to a house where the mother cat couldn’t cope with all her kittens. He was on the look out for a good home for this little beauty.”

“And he chose you?”

“I can be responsible, you know.”

“Can you have a cat in your apartment in DC?”

Doubt seemed to hit Tony, “I guess it might be difficult, especially when she’s this young. I’m guessing she’ll need a lot of attention. Might not work if I’m at work all day.”

“I’ll call Lester. Ask him to take her back,” said Fee.

“Or,” said Tony, as if this was something he had just thought about, “I could stay on a while. Look after Mo … help with Brenda. You can tell me how to look after a cat.”

Fee knew he should still encourage his guest to leave, “I don’t know much about looking after a cat,” he said discouragingly.

“Lester gave me a book,” said Tony brightly.

“And I’m not sure if I like the name Mo for a cat,” said Fee challengingly.

“Really? Huh, I thought it suited her. What would you call her?”

“If I’d ever had a cat,” said Fee, “I’d have called it … Gladys,” Fee plucked a name at random.

“Gladys?” said Tony. “Oh, well that’s lucky then.”

“Why?” asked Fee suspiciously.

“Lester gave me two kittens,” and he produced another kitten from another pocket, “Here you go, meet Gladys.”

Fee helplessly took Gladys and tried to glare at Tony, but it was difficult when he was stroking a tiny animal and when Tony looked back impassively.

“Oh, all right,” said Fee eventually, “I know when I’m beaten. But I don’t know how Brenda’s going to take to a cat.”

“She’ll be fine,” said Tony confidently, “I mean, she took to me.”

This was unanswerable, and Fee didn’t try. After a moment or two he said grumpily, “Better go and throw some more lentils in that stew if you’re sticking around,” but the pat on Tony’s back as he left belied the cross words.

END FLASHBACK

“How did it work out?” asked Gibbs, “Guess the second winter was different to the first.”

“Well, I wasn’t sick for weeks,” reminisced Tony, “Which was an improvement.”

“Can’t imagine you cooped up for weeks away from everything.”

“No, I can’t either,” admitted Tony, “But we could stream TV when the internet was up. And Fee had a whole bunch of DVDs. And there were loads of books to read. It was kinda nice to slow down. And we had Mo and Glad.”

“Mo and Glad? Who were they?”

“Mo turned out to be short for Monster,” said Tony ruefully, “And Glad was short for Gladys.”

“That makes it clear.”

“They were … are … cats. They were kittens when we got them, but they grew up.”

“You had cats?” Gibbs was trying to terms with this new aspect of Tony.

“Yes.”

“ _And_ you eat four cheese pizza?”

“Sure. Oh, I see. Fee’s vegetarian. Said he didn’t used to be but when they got Brenda it sort of turned him off eating beef. And he said it was easier to stock up for the winter if he didn’t have to fill his freezer with meat.”

“So, you’re a vegetarian now?” This almost seemed to Gibbs the oddest thing of all: he still had fond memories of he and Tony eating cowboy steaks together. Indeed, he had thought of suggesting cooking them for their evening meal.

Tony considered this, “Not sure. I mean, not from conviction or anything like that but I’ve got out of the habit of eating meat. And maybe I won’t eat beef, I don’t think Brenda would approve and it would be a bit like eating McGee.”

Gibbs considered this unlikely scenario. “I’ll bear it in mind. And this Fee was OK during the winter?”

“Fee’s usually cheerful and happy,” said Tony, “And we rubbed along OK. I could mend the wind turbine when it broke so that meant Fee didn’t have to climb any ladders and he taught me how to cook lentils and beans. I think he was glad to have me there.”

“He didn’t think of offing himself?”

“What, because I was there?” said Tony half-jokingly.

“Idiot! You know what I meant.”

“Sorry, Boss. No, he’d be quiet sometimes but hey, even I can be quiet sometimes, but I’d just leave him be for a while and he’d come out of it. But no, I don’t think he thought about it … and Mo and Glad were good distractions.”

“And how is he now? Winter’s been over a long time.”

“He’s not going to spend another winter on his own,” said Tony.

“You mean you’re going to go back for winter?” asked Gibbs, wondering how a part-time, seasonal agent could operate.

“No. Fee’s agreed to move into town for winter. Julia and Craig have a cabin near their house which they’re going to let him have. They’ll keep an eye on him. He’ll be fine and Mo and Glad will like having a yard to scratch in.”

“Why’s he moving?”

“He was ill towards the end of the winter … began to slow down a lot and get breathless easily. I got him checked out when the thaw came, and it turned out he’s got heart trouble. He’s OK if he takes it easy but he knows that he wouldn’t cope at his place for winter.”

“And he doesn’t want to die now?” asked Gibbs.

“I guess not. I spent the spring and summer helping him out and sorting out the winter move and then we agreed it was time for me to come to DC and sort _my_ things out.”

“You staying in this other cabin in town?”

“Not planning on it, no, Boss.”

Gibbs nodded, hiding his relief that Tony wasn’t planning another trip away.

“I can go visit at Christmas,” said Tony, “The town doesn’t get cut off as easily as the remote houses. Should be able to get through.”

“Don’t get lost this time,” said Gibbs gruffly.

“On it, Boss!”

NCISNCIS

“So, Tim,” said Tony, “We need to talk.”

Gibbs had brought Tony into work and then disappeared to tell the Director of the ‘good’ news of DiNozzo’s reappearance.

“Delilah and I will move out of your place by the weekend,” said Tim, “If that’s OK? It’s just that we both need to work all week …”

“Relax, Tim. I’m good at the Boss’s for a while. But Tim, do you _want_ to move out?”

“What?”

“All those head slaps from the Boss caused you to lose your hearing, Tim?” asked Tony sympathetically, “I’m sure HR would have something to say about that.”

“What?” asked Tim again.

Tony took pity on his co-worker, “I asked if you really want to leave the apartment? If you like it there?”

“We love it,” said Tim, “It’s central for work, it’s secure, got great views …”

“And the best pizza place in town just down the road,” said Tony happily. “So, you’d like to stay?”

“Of course, but we know we can’t. we always knew we’d have to move out if … when … you showed up again.”

“How about if you carried on living there?”

“But where would you live?” asked Tim. And then in sudden anxiety, “It’s only got one bedroom … you weren’t thinking of moving in as well, are you?”

“Relax, McW-, Tim. I meant that you could either buy it from me or we could work out some rent.”

“But where are you going to live?”

“I don’t know … but after living in the wilds of Montana, I don’t think I’ll settle to an apartment … even such an elegant, desirable one like mine. I want to get a house … with a yard.”

“You do?” asked McGee, “You sure you’re OK, Tony?”

“Why?”

“Well, you eat four cheese pizza …”

“Why is everyone so hung up on that?” demanded Tony.

“You do remember what you were like before about vegetarian stuff?” asked Tim.

“I guess.”

“And now you want a place with a _yard?_ You hate getting your hands dirty.”

“Not anymore,” said Tony, holding out his hands for inspection, “Look! Senior picked up on my lack of hand care straightaway. Never thought you’d be less observant than him.”

“You sure about this, Tony?”

“Never surer, Mc …”

“Were you about to use a mcnickname?” asked Tim, “Like you were just now?”

“Turns out it’s a really strong instinct,” confessed Tony, “I was trying to resist.”

“Why?”

“Thought you didn’t like them.”

“I thought I didn’t,” replied Tim, “But I’ve missed them. McGee’s a really _boring_ name, you know. You made it more interesting.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Tony breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief, “Thank God, McLodger, McInacommittedrelationship … and how is Wheels, by the way?”

Tim felt a familiar feeling of exasperation and latched on to the last question, “Uh, Tony. I don’t think it would be very sensitive to call Delilah _Wheels_.”

Tony flapped a hand dismissively, “Don’t fuss, McWorrywart, it’ll be fine.”

“Now that’s what we’ve been missing,” came Director Vance’s dry tones.

“Director Vance,” said Tony, “Reporting for duty.”

“You’re a little late,” said Vance.

“Yes Sir, I apologise. There are extenuating circumstances.”

“So Agent Gibbs has been explaining. It’s good to see you, Special Agent DiNozzo. We need to talk about your assignment but that can wait for another time.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

“What do you mean, _assignment_?” demanded Gibbs.

“Gibbs, DiNozzo’s been gone more than 30 months. He can’t just slot right back in … we need to think about where he’d be best placed.”

“It’s all right, Boss,” said Tony, “I understand.”

“Thank you, Agent DiNozzo … Tony,” replied Vance. “And I want you to know that the Agency … this team … missed you. The squad room has been duller without you … and I’m beginning to think that a little – a _little,_ you understand – unpredictability has unexpected benefits.” He nodded and returned to his office.

Shortly after this conversation, the MCRT got called to a crime scene leaving Tony to meet with Dolores Bromstead to begin the process of his reinstatement.

NCISNCIS

“McGee!”

“Boss?” said Tim as he answered the phone.

“You seen DiNozzo?”

“You mean recently?”

“Of course, I mean recently!”

“No, Boss. He was still with HR when we got back from Quantico. I left before you did.”

“He didn’t come visit you at his apartment?”

Tim felt like saying he hadn’t realised _this_ was what Gibbs had meant by _seeing_ Tony, but he resisted the temptation and simply said, “No.”

“He hasn’t showed up at my place,” said Gibbs.

“Oh.”

“Phone Dolores. Ask her what time he left,” ordered Gibbs.

Tim once again resisted a temptation: this time to ask Gibbs why _he_ didn’t call HR but, as he suspected that Gibbs was afraid of Dolores, he settled for saying, “Yes, Boss.”

A few minutes later, Gibbs answered the phone, “Gibbs. What you got, McGee?”

“Dolores says that Tony got a phone call …”

“DiNozzo’s got a phone?”

A sarcastic response of “Duh, how do you think he got a call if he didn’t have a phone?” was wisely left unsaid. “Yes, Boss.”

“Who was the call from?”

“Dolores doesn’t know. Tony said he’d have to come back to finish the paperwork. Said he had to go, that it was urgent … and he went.”

“Trace the phone call.”

“Can’t, Boss.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t know the phone number. Dolores said they hadn’t got as far as updating his contact details.”

“Isn’t there something techy you can do?”

“No, Boss.”

“What do you mean, _No, Boss_?”

“Er, I mean No, Boss. If I could do it, I would, but I can’t. What’s the problem anyway? Perhaps it was Senior called Tony?”

“No, why would Tony have given Senior his number?”

“Because Mr D is Tony’s father?” suggested Tim.

A grunt told Tim what Gibbs thought of that idea.

“Tim, Tony said he called me at home a couple of years ago …”

“He did? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t answer it!”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.”

“Could you trace it? See where it came from?”

“I guess. It would take a while, but it should be possible.”

“Then do it!”

“Er, Boss _why_ am I doing it?”

“We still don’t know where DiNozzo’s been all this time. I figure he’s gone back.”

“But he seemed happy to be back,” objected Tim. “Why do you think he’s gone back?”

“My _gut_ ,” snapped Gibbs. “So, start tracing. And while you’re at it, start trying to trace people called Fee in Montana.”

“Um, Boss, I already tried that,” admitted McGee.

“What?”

“I wanted to know where he’d been,” said McGee, “So I searched for people called Fee.”

“And?”

“I didn’t find any. Or at least, none that seem to be elderly men. I don’t think it’s his real name. Why would Tony have told us a false name?”

Gibbs didn’t know the answer to that although he felt he should know.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry …

Gibbs told McGee to meet him at the Navy Yard. McGee could have told him that he could do his searches on his laptop at home just as easily as in the squad room but sensed that Gibbs would be happier to see him working at his desk.

“Boss,” he said as Gibbs strode in with a coffee in both hands. “Tony caught an afternoon flight to Billings. Guess you were right that he was heading back there.”

Gibbs didn’t favour this assessment with an answer but did put a mug of coffee on McGee’s desk.

“The flight landed about an hour ago,” continued McGee.

Gibbs took a sip of his own coffee and, before he could speak, Tim said, “And I’ve booked you on a flight at 06.00 in the morning.”

“I hear there has been a development in the continuing saga of our absent friend,” said Ducky arriving with Palmer in his wake.

“I can’t believe I missed him,” said Jimmy, “But I was away taking my final examinations.”

“Indeed, Dr Palmer will soon be a qualified medical examiner,” said Ducky proudly, “It will be a great occasion, and I hope we will make sure that we celebrate the occasion appropriately.”

“Be even better if DiNozzo was here to join in the party,” groused Gibbs.

“Of course, Jethro and that must be our chief focus at the moment. We must not allow our undoubted satisfaction at Dr Palmer’s achievements to distract us from the matter at hand … why, I remember …”

“Duck,” interrupted Gibbs, “Focus?”

“Indeed, I do apologise … even if it does contravene one of your rules: although, as I have told you on many occasions, it is not a rule which I favour. I would …”

“Er, Dr Mallard,” cut in Jimmy, “I don’t think Agent Gibbs is listening.”

“He rarely is,” said Ducky pragmatically.

“Um, do we know where Tony … Agent DiNozzo … has gone?” asked Jimmy, trying to return to the matter at hand.

“He caught a flight to Billings,” said McGee.”

“Billings? Why Billings?” asked Jimmy.

“’Cos it’s the airport for Montana and Montana’s the place he’s been holed up in for years,” growled Gibbs.

“So why don’t you go to where he was staying?”

“Uh, Jimmy, we don’t know where he’s been staying,” interposed Tim.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” said Jimmy a little sheepishly.

“Guess Dr Mallard wasn’t as focussed as he thought,” snapped Gibbs, “You know, when he was bringing you up to date.”

“I-I-It wasn’t Dr Mallard’s fault,” said Jimmy loyally, “I was telling him about my examinations. I may have got overexcited and not given him a chance to get a word in edgeways …”

McGee couldn’t help but smile as he imagined the reunion of the voluble doctors; a smile he suppressed when he saw Gibbs’ unimpressed stare.

“Could you not trace the address of Tony’s friend during his stay?” asked Ducky helpfully; he received a Gibbs’ glare as reward, “… am I to understand that you have tried to locate Mr Fee already and unsuccessfully?”

“I can’t find anyone with a surname of Fee,” said Tim.

“Have you tried looking for a _given_ name of Fee,” asked Jimmy who was also trying to be helpful.

Another exaggerated sigh sounded from Gibbs’ desk, but Tim ignored it and said, “Tried that too, Jimmy. Nothing fit.”

“Do we have no clue as to the gentleman’s real name?” asked Ducky. “Did Anthony fail to give us that information?”

“There is something,” said Gibbs, rubbing the top of his nose in a bid to make his brain work, “But I can’t quite remember.”

“I could hypnotise you if you want, Agent Gibbs,” offered Jimmy, “I’ve been taking courses. It might help you remember …”

Jimmy had been stared at by Gibbs in a variety of ways over the years but the incredulous stare with which this suggestion was met beat all the others.

“Perhaps not,” he agreed.

“Something about _happy_ ,” Gibbs ground out: perhaps the fear of being hypnotised by Jimmy had the effect of firing up his brain cells.

“Who’s happy?” asked McGee.

“Not me,” said Gibbs pointedly. “DiNozzo said something about Fee should be happy because of his name.”

“Did he say anything more than that?” asked Ducky.

“Nope.”

“Perhaps he has a happy surname,” suggested Ducky, “Fee Happy, Fee Joy …”

“Mr Happy,” giggled Jimmy. He encountered another Gibbs’ glare, “Um, it’s a children’s book … or rather there are lots of them: Mr Books … Mr Happy, Mr Silly, Little Miss Tidy … I mean, I know that’s not a Mr book that’s a little Miss book, but Victoria loves them. Dr Mallard bought her a whole set, from Britain, you know … well, I’m sure you know … and it doesn’t really matter if you don’t know. I mean, why should you know?”

“You think Tony’s friend is a character from a children’s book?” demanded Gibbs.

“No, no. No, of course not … it just set off a train of thought,” offered Jimmy.

“No good anyway,” intervened Tim, “No Mr Happy or Mr Joy. But I’ll carry on looking. And I’ll get hold of security footage from Billings airport, Boss. See how Tony left and try to trace any cabs.”

“Good work, Tim,” said Gibbs pointedly, “Good to know _someone_ is making intelligent suggestions.”

“Or it could be short for something,” suggested Jimmy trying to redeem himself.

“What?” demanded Gibbs.

“Fee might be an abbreviation,” said Ducky. “Could be short for Feeton, Fielding, Fearon …” 

“Try that,” ordered Gibbs. His glare softened a little.

“Or,” said Jimmy, “It could be an abbreviation of his first name …”

“It could be anything,” said Gibbs, “Might be his initials … who knows?”

“Felix!” cried Jimmy excitedly.

“Excuse me?” said Gibbs.

“Fee could be short for Felix,” said Jimmy.

“That is an astute suggestion, Dr Palmer,” said Ducky brightly. He turned to Gibbs, “ _Felix_ is a boy’s name meaning _happy_. It derives from the …”

“McGee!” snapped Gibbs.

Tim tapped on his keyboard, “642 people with first or last names of Felix in Montana,” he announced. “Eliminating women and all people under 50 years of age … yes! There are 2 left. One living in the Eastern edge of the State, we never figured that Tony would have gone that far off track.”

“Who’s left, McGee?”

“Felix Morgan, 76, lives near Martin’s Gap. Looks quite remote, Boss. I think that’s Tony’s Fee.”

“Good work – all of you!” said Gibbs. “I’m heading out. Tim, see what you can find from the security footage and send me Morgan’s address.”

As Gibbs strode towards the elevator, he was conscious that Ducky had followed him, “Jethro, wait a moment, please.”

“Duck? What is it? Not got a whole lot of time here.”

“Jethro, your flight is not until the morning. You have time to answer a civil question from an old friend.”

“Go on then, Duck.”

“Why the hurry? Why the anxiety? Surely you don’t believe that Anthony has abandoned us, do you?”

Gibbs thought about this for a moment or two, “No, I guess not. He came back to us voluntarily and he’s been talking about what’s going to happen next. Didn’t even argue with Vance when he hinted he might not get a spot back on my team.”

“Then that is all most encouraging. So, why are you so anxious? Do you fear not being to find him again?”

“No, Duck, that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“You spoke to him, Duck. You know he had doubts about whether we wanted him back or not.”

“Indeed, he expressed some such misgivings to me but surely we have made it clear by our welcome to him that we wished him back very much?”

“I know but …”

“But what, Jethro?”

“I just think it would be good if he could see that we cared enough to go after him this time. Make sure he knows we care, that he doesn’t have to make all the running.”

“That is a most insightful observation, Jethro.”

“No need to sound so surprised, Duck.”

“Indeed not. Now, Jethro, what on earth are you doing, dillydallying like this when you have a plane to catch – go, there is no time to be lost!”

NCISNCIS

“DiNozzo! Tony …” said Gibbs as he walked into the chapel at West Mountain Community Hospital some hours later.

“Gibbs! Boss! What are you doing here?” asked Tony from his seat near the altar.

“Came to see how you are. Didn’t want you to slip away again,” said Gibbs as he took a seat next to Tony.

“How did … oh, I guess you put McGee on to the search?”

“He had some help … from Palmer.”

“What?”

“We didn’t know where you’d gone … or who you’d come to. I mean, I guessed it was Fee, but you never told us his name.”

“I didn’t? No, I guess I didn’t. Felix Morgan – but you worked that out. He said his wife, Vi, always shortened his name and he almost forgot what his full name was. It was ages before he told me and that was only at the end of the first winter when the mail got through and I saw some government letters addressed to him. I always think of him as Fee.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were going?”

“Lester phoned me while I was with Dolores. He’d lent me an old phone of his … I think mine’s still somewhere in a Montana river. I knew there was a flight in the afternoon if I hurried: didn’t have time to call anyone.”

Gibbs nodded, “Guessed that.”

“How you find me?”

“McGee found your flight to Billings. We worked out that Fee was Mr Morgan, so we had an address. I remembered you’d said something about a Julia and Craig: turned out that wasn’t a common combination around Martin’s Gap … called them and found out about Fee.”

“He had a heart attack,” said Tony. “Just as we had everything sorted for him.”

“How is he?”

“I’m in the chapel, Gibbs … I think that’s a clue that it’s not good news …”

FLASHBACK

“Hey, Fee. It’s me, Tony … I mean, J …” Tony approached Fee’s hospital bed.

Fee opened his eyes tiredly and, behind the oxygen mask, his mouth lifted in a smile. He raised a hand and tried to remove the mask, but Tony put his hand out to stop him. Fee nodded and turned his hand so it was holding Tony’s.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No need,” said Tony.

Fee shook his head but didn’t try to speak again.

“I went back,” said Tony, “And you were right … as you usually are … it made more sense when I saw them all again. I mean, I know it wasn’t perfect before but that’s OK. I know there was something special about us as a team …”

“Told you so,” gasped Fee.

“I know. Fee, I want to thank you …”

Fee shook his head again.

“No, let me say this. You saved me … I mean, I know you dragged my sorry ass out of the snow and looked after me. But it’s more than that, you stopped me … I don’t know how I’d have coped with the memory thing without you being you. I-I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone care about me like you did.”

Fee managed to dislodge the mask and whisper, “Reckon … we’re … quits. You saved …”

Tony went to replace the mask but Fee stopped him, “Vi would’ve liked you.”

Tony smiled, recognising that this was the highest compliment Fee could offer.

Fee smiled back and seemed to decide he’d said all he needed to. Now, he was content just to sit with Tony holding his hand.

END FLASBACK

“So?” asked Gibbs.

“He slipped away about an hour ago,” said Tony rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “I was with him at the end.”

Gibbs put a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“He was a great man, Gibbs,” said Tony after a while, “I mean, he didn’t do some high-powered job or make loads of money, but he loved people and he made a difference just by the way he was.”

“Wish I’d met him,” said Gibbs.

“Yeah,” said Tony turning to look at him, “That would have been interesting to see! He had some great stories about the Civil Rights Movement – some hopeful, some sad. He told a good tale. He loved to talk.”

“Sounds like you two had a lot in common,” said Gibbs.

“I guess,” mused Tony, “I’d like to think so anyway. Even though it was just the two of us in that cabin of his, he showed me something about what it means to be family. Does that make sense?”

“Makes sense to me,” said Gibbs, “Seems to me that sometimes we have to make our own families … that’s what you and Fee did.”

“Yes, I suppose so. I’ll miss him, you know.”

“You’ve got another family in DC,” said Gibbs, “Time to come back and build that one again, maybe?”

“Maybe,” agreed Tony. “But I need to stick around for a while. Help with the funeral, deal with the paperwork … you know.”

“I know,” said Gibbs, “But remember what I said. You’ve got a family waiting for you in DC … don’t disappear again, understand?”

“Boss, I know you mean well … and it means a lot that you flew all this way to find out if I’m all right … but I can’t think beyond the next few days at the moment … this is all too new now.”

“I know … but remember what I said … we’ll be waiting for you.”

“No promises, Gibbs. No promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry about Fee but I think most people probably guessed what was going to happen. 
> 
> And now nearly there … just one more chapter to go, I think.
> 
> The Mr Men and Little Miss books are very popular children’s books in the UK and I think they may have made their way across to the USA … and Ducky might have brought them to the Palmers’ attention.


	10. Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER.

Gibbs paused and looked back at the snowy expanse he had just walked through: he had to admit that the peace and quiet calmed his soul. Or perhaps not quiet; Gibbs heard the sound of wood being chopped and walked through the gate in search of the woodcutter.

Gibbs waited for a moment or two to watch Tony unobserved, but he knew that his presence would soon be noted so said,

“You’re getting good at that!”

Tony swung around with a grin on his face, “Shouldn’t creep on me, Boss. Might have let go of the axe and chopped off your head!”

“I reckon you’ve got better control than that!” said Gibbs drily.

“I guess,” agreed Tony. “Hey, come on inside, it’s too cold to stand around talking.”

There were answering purrs from a rocking chair on the stoop and Gibbs saw two cats starting to twine themselves around Tony’s legs as he went to go inside.

“Let me guess, Go and Mad?” said Gibbs.

“Almost … and you’ve got a point but no, Mo and Glad,” replied Tony. “It’s time for them to curl up in front of the fire: now that they’ve watched me chop up wood for it.”

“Nice place,” said Gibbs as he shed his outer clothing and rubbed his hands together.

“Thanks. I’ll put the coffee on.”

Gibbs nodded and continued to look around the room and, as Tony reappeared with two steaming mugs of coffee, pointed to the mantelshelf,

“That Fee?” he asked.

Tony smiled and picked up the photo, so Gibbs could see it better, “1963, Lincoln Memorial. The day of the _I have a dream_ speech. That’s his wife-to-be standing next to him.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs as he examined the photo, “Can see the likeness, he didn’t change much,” he pointed to another photo, this one with Fee and Tony sitting in rocking chairs, each with a cat in their laps.

“Who’d have thunk it, eh? Anthony DiNozzo content to sit and rock with a cat in his lap?”

“People change,” shrugged Gibbs.

“Have _you_ ever changed, Gibbs?” asked Tony curiously.

“I said _people_ , not me,” said Gibbs, “But yes, I guess I’ve changed too over the years. Didn’t always want to but sometimes we don’t have a choice.”

“You know,” said Tony, discerning that Gibbs might be alluding to one change over which he hadn’t had a choice, “I _am_ sorry I had you all so worried when I went missing. And I couldn’t help it at the beginning, but I guess I could have come back earlier …”

“You _guess_?” asked Gibbs.

“Even when I started remembering I wasn’t ready to come back,” said Tony, “… and then when I was ready, well – you know that Fee needed me.”

“I know,” said Gibbs, “You’ve explained it all before. You did what you had to.”

“I know,” said Tony in turn, “But I’m not sure I’ve ever really told you … told all of you … that I’m sorry for the worry …”

“Water under the bridge,” said Gibbs briskly, “Just don’t do it again! We know where you are now – and Abby’s probably put some sort of tracker on you anyway!”

“Hmm, I wondered what the lump was in that Halloween cake she sent me,” said Tony thoughtfully, “But surely something I ate wouldn’t work as a tracker, would it? It’d just pass through … no, I guess she’ll find another way.”

“I’d be careful of any care packages she sends you,” warned Gibbs with mock seriousness. He returned the photo to the mantelshelf and sat down in one of the chairs by the fire. A cat jumped into his lap as soon as he’d settled himself. “Which one is this?”

“That’s Glad.” Tony stooped and picked up Mo and sat down with her in his arms. “Jimmy’s glad I’m back,” he continued.

“Huh?”

“He was getting anxious about how to deal with Senior,” Tony explained.

“What? Why would _he_ have to deal with your Dad?”

“Jimmy’s good at keeping quiet …”

“He is?” asked Gibbs sceptically as he remembered times when Jimmy seemed unable to control what came out of his mouth.

“When it’s important, he is.”

“And what was important?”

“Jimmy’s the executor of my will …”

“Ah,” said Gibbs, “I figured you must have made some arrangements; didn’t know about Jimmy though.”

“He was a good choice. Honest, reliable … and less likely to get killed than my other co-workers. Picking someone likely to outlive me seemed a good choice.”

Gibbs nodded his approval, “But why was he worried about your Dad?”

Tony winced, “Jimmy knew that Senior didn’t have anything to gain from my will; well apart from my grandfather’s watch and the DiNozzo signet ring – I figured _they_ should go back to him.”

“Who gets your money then?”

“Not who, what. I left most of it to Ohio State Scholarship Funds … OSU gave me some of the best years of my life. I decided I liked the idea of helping some other kids to get the same.”

“Good job, DiNozzo!”

“And I knew I wouldn’t be around to see Senior’s reaction!” joked Tony.

“One advantage of being dead,” agreed Gibbs. “What happened with Fee’s stuff?”

“He was a law student at Lincoln University … not for long but he always had fond memories of it. He left them a legacy for their scholarship funds.”

“Turns out you had a lot in common,” commented Gibbs.

“Yeah.” Tony smiled at the photos and raised his mug in salute.

Gibbs let the silence continue for a while and then said, “I can see why you like this place.”

“It was a good compromise,” said Tony, “I mean, a yard was a good idea and I like outdoor space, but I don’t think I’m going to be a gardener! This way, I have a small yard and I have a gate directly into the park. So I have the _space_ of the park on my doorstep and _someone_ else to look after it all.”

“And it’s near to Quantico,” observed Gibbs.

“Yes,” said Tony cautiously. “You know, Gibbs you should stop being mad at the Director …”

“I should?”

“Yes, you should. There was no way he could have demoted McGee back to being McOrdinary after all those months. Like I said before, it was bad enough when you did it before and that was only after a few weeks. And …”

“And what?”

“It was time I moved on. You know that.”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do. I’d been your second too many years. Don’t get me wrong, I learned a lot – you taught me the job, but it was time to go. And I might not ever have realised that if … well, what happened didn’t happen. Being away gave me a new perspective, made me see things differently …”

“Huh,” said Gibbs in an unconvinced tone.

“And you have to see it from Vance’s point of view …”

“I do, do I?”

“Yes, you do. This way, the Director got a highly talented and gifted experienced …”

“A what?” teased Gibbs.

“You heard,” said Tony calmly, “Director Vance got a seasoned and gifted Very Special Agent to set up his new MCRT at Quantico.”

“I guess.”

“And,” continued Tony thoughtfully, “He may have liked the idea of having me somewhere he didn’t have to see me every day! He said some nice things, but I don’t think he’s totally on board with the DiNozzo way of doing things!”

“You sure about this?”

“What? About Vance wanting me out of the way?”

“No,” said Gibbs impatiently, “You sure about not coming back to the team? We could make it work, you know.”

“I’m sure, Gibbs. Losing my memory … and then finding out who I was again, made me think about what I found out. Some things I didn’t like about the old DiNozzo … and it was time to let go of those.”

“Thought you’d worked out that we had really missed you … and that we wanted you back,” said Gibbs.

“I did.”

“Then what’s so bad about going back to the way things were?”

“Me, I guess _. I’ve_ changed … hey, you’ve seen me eating veggie pizza, chopping wood and liking cats and the open air: you know I’m not the same. And it goes deeper, I don’t feel restless anymore … I think I’m beginning to know what contentment looks like and I’ve got Fee to thank for that.”

Gibbs gazed at Tony for a long while and decided that there was something different about Tony: he wasn’t fidgeting or looking around for the next distraction but instead was sitting tranquilly stroking Mo. Finally, he nodded, “Understood.”

“Thanks, Boss.”

“By the way, what happened to Fee’s cabin?” asked Gibbs.

“It was sold off,” said Tony, “Everything went to the scholarship fund.”

“Everything?”

“Well, I got the photos … kept the clothes that Fee had loaned me … and his books and DVDs.”

“And?”

“And?” Tony followed Gibbs’ gaze downwards, “Oh yeah, I got the cats … which meant I really had to find somewhere with a yard.”

“What about Brenda?”

“Remember me saying that Fee had tried to get rid of her? Turned out that the family who’d been going to take her before, really did get her second time round. She’s happy there.”

“What happened to the cabin? You weren’t tempted to buy it?”

“I thought about it for about three minutes, but it wasn’t practical. Don’t think I’m cut out for that much solitude.”

“Who bought it?”

“Craig and Julia. They’re going to rent it out in the summer. Tourists will love it. And they said I can book it if I want.”

“You going to?”

“Probably, would be good to go back. I’ve got good friends there. But maybe not in the winter.”

“Damn right, not in the winter,” said Gibbs sternly. “I’m not losing you again. Clear?”

“On it, Boss! Hey, you staying for supper?”

Gibbs sniffed and decided the smells were appetising, “Sure.”

“Oh, there was something else I got from Fee …”

“What was that?” said Gibbs, conscious of feelings of contentment and wellbeing.

“50 pounds of lentils and some great stew recipes!”

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done at last! Thank you to everyone who came along for the ride. 
> 
> The characters, apart from the Montana people, don’t belong to me and are back in their boxes.
> 
> Some years ago, scousemuz1k wrote a story called ‘All the Other Acronyms’ in which Tony lost his memory and began to learn about himself from the reactions of his co-workers: that idea intrigued me and stayed with me to jog me into writing this version of Tony trying to rediscover himself. If you like amnesiac Tony stories, you’ll like her story …


End file.
